


starting with your heart (bright heart)

by bluestalking



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:26:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestalking/pseuds/bluestalking
Summary: The plot of this fic is Anakin leaves with Ahsoka.Where she goes, he follows. He has a fleeting moment where he thinks he should tell Obi-Wan where he’s going. That he should turn back to the temple. But he’s afraid that if he turns away from Ahsoka for a moment, she’ll disappear and he’ll never see her again.





	starting with your heart (bright heart)

**Author's Note:**

> Ahsoka leaving all alone forever made me TOO SAD, so here is an alternative, in which things possibly work out better for everyone. I know it's legends but there's just a skoosh of Jedi Apprentice in here, too, because it's nice for Obi-Wan to have backstory.

**CHAPTER 1: ANAKIN AND AHSOKA TAKE A WALK**

Anakin knows what it is to want to leave, he says, and he’s both begging her to stay and offering her something--he already knows he’s offering something. It’s not just a selfish demand that she stay; the anger and the pride crashing around inside him make _every_ option possible, but she doesn’t understand that yet. 

He believes in her, he says, and she tells him it’s not about him. And it’s not. Of course it isn’t--as hard as it is to work through his feelings and see it. But when he does, very clearly, he sees the choice.

Anakin is quiet, and Ahsoka turns away. But she’s an idiot if she thinks he’s silently letting her go--Anakin is only ever quiet for a reason. Because he’s thinking. She turns away, and he says quickly, “I know it’s not about me. But I’m not ready to lose you.”

She faces him, a flicker of hurt and frustration breaking the numbness of her expression. “I don’t want this to become harder than it already is,” she says.

“No,” says Anakin. He tries to be gentle, but he hears the intensity in his own voice. “No, neither do I. I want...to come with you.”

Shock jars her face.

“No, you don’t,” she says. “I won’t take you. I need to leave the Jedi behind. I told you. I need to find my own path. You can’t be my master anymore.”

“I’m not offering to come with you as a Jedi,” Anakin says. Voicing the words makes his heartbeat flutter into a high gear. He’s certain, and giddily afraid of his certainty. Not afraid enough to take it back. “I’m not offering to come with you as your master.”

She shakes her head, looking at him with something like horror.

“I know the Jedi betrayed you,” Anakin says. “I feel that betrayal too.”

She tilts her head, frowning, hopeful, wounded. This is clearly not the clean, if painful, break she expected. She expected him to have more allegiance to the Jedi than to the people he loves. Didn’t she tell him herself that she knew about his doubts? It’s funny that she can misunderstand him even that much, after all this time--but then, he’s worked hard to hide the truth about himself. Whose fault is it if she thinks he’s a _good_ Jedi? 

“I’m angry,” he says. He wishes she would speak. He feels like he’s talking over her, the way Padmé often accuses him of doing. “I’m angry enough to take your side as far as that possibly goes. What do you think? Can I come with you?”

She says, “I need to go for a walk.”

He thinks that’s permission, or at least a probationary period, so where she goes, he follows. He has a fleeting moment where he thinks he should tell Obi-Wan where he’s going. That he should turn back to the temple. But he’s afraid that if he turns away from Ahsoka for a moment, she’ll disappear and he’ll never see her again. 

Every step away from the temple feels like elastic stretching between it and him. But he means it, about the anger. He’s furious at all of them for letting this happen. Even Obi-Wan, because he knows Obi-Wan tried and then _stopped_ trying. Obi-Wan, who’s known perfect, loyal, honest Ahsoka for years. He’s furious, knowing that _his_ padawan (no, not padawan anymore) was moments away from being sentenced to--

He breathes through the anger, lets the Force flow, and keeps focused on Ahsoka. Let them fret about him. Let them feel awkward and angry and other inappropriate Jedi emotions. He hopes Plo Koon feels disgusting.

They walk for hours. Obi-Wan keeps trying to contact him; Anakin turns his commlink off. 

After the first hour or so, Ahsoka seems to become enraged at the pristine upper city, and they delve down into the darkness of other people’s lives. They walk and walk, and barely speak. Anakin sometimes gives her a little more distance, letting her walk half a block ahead, and sometimes he walks by her side. He feels the anger in her slip into sorrow, and resolution, and loop back again to pain so sharp it seems like it will crack her into pieces. He feels her pounding her heartbreak into the pavement, step by step.

How could they not know she was telling the truth? Everything in Ahsoka is genuine. It’s obvious. The Jedi Council are fools. Every time Anakin senses her feelings, he becomes more determined. He will choose her.

He watches her hands slip out of fists until they’re loose at her sides, watches her shoulders slump, sees her breathing stop cutting in and out of her lungs like it hurts. They ascend to the upper city again, and she brings them to a fountain, glittering like jewels in the city’s night lights. She sits at the edge and waits for him to sit with her. Which he does. She takes off her boots and sinks her feet in the water, up to her ankles. You’re not supposed to do that. Anakin loves it. 

He sits down, legs facing out of the fountain.

“So, Snips? What do you want to do?”

She sighs and looks up at the night traffic.

“I want to go,” she says. “I need to find--I feel like my whole world has just been broken apart by the people I was living for.”

Oh, Anakin knows that feeling.

She looks at him, intent and unsure.

“You don’t want to come with me, Anakin. You belong here.”

“No,” says Anakin. “We’re partners. If you’ll have me, I’ll be at your side. I’m _on_ your side, Ahsoka. I owe you more than I owe them, do you understand?”

“Even Obi-Wan?” she asks softly.

“He let this happen,” Anakin said. “Don’t think I’m not aware of that.”

She looks ready to argue, and he says, “Let me worry about what I’m willing to give up, okay? We’re partners. I’m with you.”

“You’re still not my master anymore,” she says. 

“I know,” he says. He thinks painfully of the council’s imbecilic assertion that this was Ahsoka’s great trial, that they, putting her through this, are what prove her ready to be a Jedi Knight. And she is ready. She’s all grown up. She’s just grown up into something else. “You’re the boss, Snips. This time I follow your lead.”

“Huh,” she says. She stares at the water. Anakin watches the street, and waits for her to decide the course of his life.

**CHAPTER 2: OBI-WAN IS DISTRESSED**

Obi-Wan isn’t surprised that Anakin doesn’t come back immediately. Obi-Wan entertains the idea that Anakin and Ahsoka will walk back in awhile, side by side, angry but steady, Ahsoka still a Jedi after all. He says as much to the Council members, who are uncomfortable and taciturn in their replies. Their muted responses twist something in Obi-Wan’s stomach, and he doesn’t have an answer for them. 

What if he’s wrong, and Ahsoka doesn’t come back? He is fairly certain that his willingness to budge almost cost her her life. The thought of her sentence on Chancellor Palpatine’s lips knocks the breath out of him. So close, so close to something irrevocable and _wrong_. He’d thought that the truth was a gift to all of them, including him. He’d thought they’d all been granted a pardon. 

But maybe Ahsoka can’t pardon them. Maybe Ahsoka won’t come back. 

Obi-Wan retires to his rooms and tries to meditate. Anakin is going to be difficult and distraught when he returns, if he and Ahsoka truly part ways. Obi-Wan is more and more certain that they will. Except--

He feels uneasy, and can’t tell if it’s something in his own mind or something the Force is telling him. He tries to contact Anakin, and Anakin doesn’t answer. He tries again, and nothing.

They just want time alone, he thinks. But the anxiety builds and builds inside him, until it radiates from him like a force field. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. He is suddenly certain that he should be looking for them, but he doesn’t know where to begin. His meditation turns to pacing. He calls Anakin over and over, and there’s no response. He goes to Anakin’s rooms, but they’re locked and no one answers, and he can’t sense Anakin within. He tries the hangar, but there’s nothing. Artoo won’t tell him anything, or can’t.

Obi-Wan shakes his nerves off and determines to go to the mess and eat something, to calm down a little and let Anakin do what needs to be done. To let Ahsoka go, if she needs to go. (And maybe she won’t, maybe they’ll still both come back. Oh, he hopes so.)

He’s sitting at a round table with a plate in front of him and a spoon in his hand when his commlink comes to life.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says. “Are you alone?” The other Jedi nearby glance at him. No, certainly not alone.

“Give me a moment,” Obi-Wan says, hopping up from the table and striding out of the hall. “Anakin, where are you? Is Ahsoka with you?” _I’ve been worried,_ he doesn’t say, because Anakin hates to be fawned over. 

“I’m with her,” Anakin says. He pauses. “I’m staying with her.”

Obi-Wan stops dead in the hallway.

“You’ll have to explain what you mean,” he says smoothly. He doesn’t feel nearly so calm.

“Obi-Wan,” says Anakin, “Ahsoka isn’t coming back. And where she goes, I go. I’m leaving the Order.”

The words don’t even penetrate Obi-Wan’s conscious mind at first. 

“You’re what?” he says. “You’re not--surely Ahsoka knows she has a place here--”

“She knows exactly what place she has here,” Anakin snaps. “You all abandoned her, Obi-Wan. You almost let her die because the Jedi Council was too weak to stand up for its own. Because you, Obi-Wan, were too weak to protect what you believed in.”

The _you_ cuts.

“Anakin,” says Obi-Wan. “If Ahsoka needs time, then she must do what is in her heart, but you can’t throw everything away like this.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Anakin says, with the hard edge to his voice that Obi-Wan has heard many times, heard and put out of his mind. “We’re better as a team. And I owe her, and I care about her, and I care more about her and about the truth than I do about the Jedi.”

Hearing that makes Obi-Wan feel sick. “The Order is your life,” he says.

Anakin laughs. “That’s what I said to Ahsoka,” he says. “And you know what, it was her life. But you took that away from her. It’s your life, too, before anything else.” It sounds like an insult. “But it’s not mine. It was never mine. It was the only way out and I took it. But I don’t think the Jedi are better than everyone else, the way you do.”

“I don’t understand where this is coming from,” Obi-Wan says stupidly.

“Don’t you?” says Anakin. “Then I guess we’re more different than I ever thought. I have nothing else to say to you, Master. You can tell the Council of my decision.”

“Anakin, wait,” Obi-Wan says, with the sense of watching a mudslide and trying to push the mud back into place with his bare hands.

“The Jedi made their choice,” Anakin says. “Goodbye, Obi-Wan.” The call cuts off. Obi-Wan hears his own short breath in the silence that follows. Other Jedi, younglings and Padawans with their masters, pass him on their way to dinner. Obi-Wan feels cold all the way through.

~

He calls an emergency meeting of the Council, those of them on Coruscant. Masters Yoda, Windu, Tiin, Ti, Plo all come to the chambers and wait for him to speak. 

“What is this crisis, Obi-Wan?” Yoda asks.

“It’s Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. “Anakin and Ahsoka. We need to find them!” His words are urgent, but the council members do not rush into action. They sit uncomfortably in their chairs. They look wary. Obi-Wan feels his childhood impatience rearing its head. 

“There isn’t any time,” he says.

“Time for what, Obi-Wan?” asks Yoda. He asks in the way Yoda frequently does when he already has all the answers Obi-Wan will not want to hear.

“Anakin has told me he will leave the order in solidarity with Ahsoka,” he says. “Our actions will lose us two good Jedi if we do not move now to give them reasons to stay!”

Master Plo coughs--which his breathing unit is supposed to prevent, Obi-Wan thought. “I am sorry to hear that Skywalker has acted so brashly,” he says. “But I do not think we will convince Ahsoka to return to the temple after all of this. I am sorry to say it, but I am certain.”

He should be sorry, Obi-Wan thinks. They all should be. 

“You won’t even try?” he demands. “This is our doing, our fault!”

“But the choice, unfortunate as it is, belongs to them,” says Mace. Obi-Wan looks around, and sees pity on several faces. It makes him furious.

“If you had listened to me to begin with,” he says, “then Ahsoka would never have been on trial. If we had investigated thoroughly before hanging out to dry one of our best and brightest students, who has done _everything_ for the order--”

“Obi-Wan, you are out of line!” Master Windu barks. 

“I wish I was,” Obi-Wan says. “But this is our fault. I should never have gone along with you, and you should never have made this possible to begin with. We are a disgrace to ourselves!” 

“Master Kenobi,” says Shaak Ti softly, “are you saying that you, also, wish to exile yourself?”

That deflates him.

“No,” he says. “Of course I don’t want to _leave the order._ But I would think since the injury is done by us, the least we could do is try to salvage the good things we are destroying as I speak!”

“I think you should consider your tone towards the rest of this council,” Master Tiin rumbles. 

“I think the time for politeness passed when we condemned and innocent padawan to the mercy of a government that increasingly hates our kind,” Obi-Wan snaps. 

“We acted only as we best could, knowing what we did,” Master Plo says. That he doesn’t even sound defensive is infuriating.

“ _Knowing what we did?”_ Obi-Wan repeats incredulously. “What of thirteen years of knowing her? Of knowing better? What is the point of the Order if we abandon one another without faith after years of service, barely blinking an eye before we rob them of justice?”

“Obi-Wan!” Mace shouts, and it cuts him off without cutting into his fury at all. 

“They’re both leaving because of us!” he shouts back.

“I know,” says Mace more gently. “And we are going to let them. You mustn’t act rashly on your feelings, Obi-Wan. You have to let others take their own paths. You can’t be so attached.”

“It is not our role to tell those who have been injured that they are well,” Yoda says. “And if Skywalker sees his former padawan’s path as his own, stop him we will not.”

Obi-Wan’s anger slips into anguish, simmering and painful. “I see,” he says. 

“Thank you for letting us know of Skywalker’s decision,” Mace says. “If there’s nothing else, this meeting is ended.”

Obi-Wan nods wordlessly. The other council members do not speak to him, and he leaves first. He is fairly certain they are judging him. First he let his master die, then he lost two generations of Jedi after him, now he is trying to ruin himself by shouting himself hoarse in hysterics at a council meeting. 

He goes back to his rooms and sits, and thinks, _Now, now, they are leaving, now he should be finding them,_ but he remains still, and the only part of him that chases them is his heart. 

**CHAPTER 3: AHSOKA NEEDS A PLAN**

Ahsoka is relieved to have Anakin with her. Relieved, and a little reluctant. She thinks he won’t _try_ to take over her path or her grief, and she’s painfully grateful not to be alone, but while he goes to tell Obi-Wan the news, she does balance in her head two realities: the one where he really comes with her and the one where, while he’s quitting his whole life, she walks away too quickly to be caught. 

She feels like an entirely new person, suddenly, but a new person who woke up in the middle of a wreck. She’s experienced this feeling before, surrounded by the real ruins of a real starfighter, but she always woke up as herself before. This is different. And the question is, does she really want anyone else to wake up with her? All the mundane details of planning and separation are eating away at the feeling of clouds that have carried her just above her pain and shock. 

She gets to her feet, several times, but the cold fountain water brushes her ankles, meditative, and she sits again. When Anakin comes back, he looks tired and angry, but he pushes that expression out of his face and posture in an instant to smile at her. 

“Well, okay then,” he says. “That’s done. What’s next?”

“I really don’t know,” she says, but she does. She thought fast, while Anakin was saying whatever it is he felt he had to say to Obi-Wan. 

...She can’t believe Obi-Wan betrayed her. Not all of them knew her so well, although she would have thought that all of them knew her enough. But Obi-Wan and Master Plo? She would have trusted them to the ends of the galaxy. She would have been _wrong_.

“I’m going where my people are,” she says, more certainly. “I’m going where there are Togruta.” She doesn’t say anything about how it might be strange for him, and he doesn’t bat a lash.

“Ryloth?” he asks.

“Or a colony,” she says. “One of the neutral systems, like the artisan colony.”

“Makes sense,” he says, and doesn’t expand on why. But it does make sense. It’s out of the way of the Jedi and Separatists, and if it stops being out of their way, she can help. If they don’t need help that way, maybe she can just take a while to breathe. Heal. She’s still so stunned that healing sounds like an impossible, faraway joke, but she knows that is what she will need.

“I don’t have a ship,” she says. “We don’t have a ship.” She looks at him, aghast. “Where’s Artoo?”

“He’ll be fine,” Anakin assures her. “We won’t leave without him. Once we make a plan I’ll have him meet us.”

She nods. Everything feels like a crisis, she realizes, but the crisis is over. The bodies have hit the floor, and she isn’t one of them.

“So the ship problem,” she says. “If we go to the Ryloth embassy, I could probably hitch a ride from there, and from there to a colony. I’m not sure they’d take you, though.”

Anakin bites his lip and scowls in the way he does when he’s about to break a rule and wishes you wouldn’t make a big deal about it. He says, “You might hate this. But I have an idea of where we can go for help.”

“Where?” she asks suspiciously. “This isn’t going to be some bounty hunter thing, is it? Let me tell you, after Ventress, I’m done making deals with them.”

“You know she didn’t actually stab you in the back,” Anakin points out blithely, and she shoots him a narrow glare. 

“Done with bounty hunters,” she repeats emphatically. Although if she’s being fair, she knows she still owes Ventress something.

“Fair enough,” Anakin says. “But how do you feel about senators?”

~

It’s a long way from the fountain to Padmé’s apartment, but Ahsoka doesn’t mind the walk. By the time they reach Padmé’s door, her legs feel like jelly. Her heart feels like jelly. Her feet itch from being wet, and then trapped in her boots. She stands awkwardly in front of Anakin at the door, asking Threepio to bother his mistress and let them in. A minute later, the two of them are seated, and Padmé is sweeping into the room in a robe that looks as good as day clothes. 

She and Anakin exchange a look; Ahsoka feels the bond between them, a long friendship she can’t touch, but they’ve always made room for her, and tonight Anakin is waiting for Ahsoka to go first. Padmé leans down to wrap Ahsoka in a fierce hug. 

“Oh, Ahsoka,” she says. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t do better.”

“It’s all right,” says Ahsoka. “At least you tried. The two of you tried. Unlike anyone else.”

Padmé sits. “Anakin told me they were going to offer you back your place in the Order,” she says. “And then I didn’t hear anything. You don’t look happy.”

Ahsoka is so exhausted, but she keeps her spine straight.

“They offered,” she says. “I didn’t accept. And…” She glances at Anakin.

He clears his throat. “I’ve decided to side with Ahsoka in this matter,” which is so atypically formal for him that she almost laughs. 

“That only seems right,” Padmé says. The steady strength of her convictions never fails to soothe Ahsoka. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going somewhere else,” Ahsoka says. “To--find myself, I guess. Who I am without the Jedi.”

Anakin says, “And I’m...going with her.” He shrugs, with a sheepish smile.

“Hmm,” Padmé says. “That does sound like you.” A flash of something passes over her expression. She says, “How are you explaining this to the Jedi Council?”

“Well,” says Anakin with a trapped laugh.

“He told them he quit,” Ahsoka says. “It wasn’t my fault.” 

As soon as she says the words _not my fault_ , they feel sick and powdery on her tongue— _she’s been saying that so much_ —but there’s no chance to wallow. Padmé says, “ _Anakin!”_ and half shoots out of her seat.

“What?” Anakin says, nonchalant. “If they don’t stand for anything, why should I stand with them?” He keeps his tone light, but Ahsoka’s skin prickles. She knew he must be angry, to offer her this, but what he’s holding back as he speaks is a huge, howling, sky-cracking storm of a thing. She isn’t sure she’s ever felt so loved before. It’s a little terrifying.

Padmé isn’t a Force user, but she can read Anakin. She looks him up and down, silent, and settles back into her seat. 

“You never go halfway,” she says, then turns to Ahsoka. “What do you need?” she asks. Ahsoka shakes her head, suddenly ashamed to ask anything. Padmé gestures, _don’t worry_.

“You’re my friend,” she tells Ahsoka. “I am not bound by the Jedi. You’re no fugitive. And I want to help you more than I managed to in court.”

Ahsoka nods. “We need a ship,” she says. “For two people and a droid. And some money. I’ll pay it all back,” she adds quickly, although she doesn’t know how.

“I can help you with that,” says Padmé. “The only repayment I want is a promise you’ll keep in touch. And that you’ll let me know if you need anything else.”

“Padmé,” says Ahsoka. “That’s so much.”

“You deserve a lot more,” says Padmé. “Stay here tonight. We can work this out in the morning. All right?”

Ahsoka feels the adrenaline that’s kept her moving for hours rush out of her body all at once.

“That would be,” she starts and fails. “Thank you, Padmé. So much.” She tears up for the first time. “I don’t know where I’d be without you both.”

“You’d be okay, Snips,” Anakin says. He sort of leans towards her, without touching her. He almost never does. He’s careful about that. “You’re tough. But we’re sticking with you.”

Padmé feeds them and gives them rooms—her apartment is endless—and gives Ahsoka the right to a long bath before bed. 

“You deserve a clean start,” she says. Ahsoka is too raw and gnawing to object. 

When she sinks into the water, it feels exactly the same as her head. Space inside. Space apart. She’s breathing out echoes. She can hear Padmé and Anakin speaking, off and on, but not what they say. They move around the house, and she almost falls asleep.

What if she drowned, _now?_ Well that would be a mistake. She climbs out of the tub and slips down the hall to her room, shuts the door carefully, breathes carefully. 

She wants to meditate, but is she allowed to anymore? She decides she is. She sits on soft blankets and remembers the Force. It moves inside her, dark and light and utterly pure. The imbalance she feels in herself seems worldshaking, but she can almost see that it’s only her, and not even life or death. The Force is strong and familiar. It belongs with her, even if the Jedi don’t.

**CHAPTER 4: PADME AND ANAKIN TALK ABOUT IT**

 

Anakin waits until Ahsoka has gone into the bath to say to Padmé, “You and I are going to have to sleep in separate rooms, and I’m very unhappy about that.”

Padmé shakes her head. She couldn’t hide the entirety of her shock when Anakin declared he’d quit the order, but she’s a professional, and she never turns that off. She is discreet enough and sensitive enough to have held her tongue until it couldn’t hurt Ahsoka, but now she and Anakin are alone, and she says, “You _quit_ the Order, and that’s all you have to say? You’ve got to explain things better than that.”

Anakin, who has worked himself up to a wry smirk, says, “What? I think it’s a great plan.”

“Anakin,” she says. She’s tired. Today has been hardest for Ahsoka, but it wasn’t easy for her. She keeps seeing the coldness in Chancellor Palpatine’s face. Did he always look like that? Did he always refuse to listen? “You’re telling me you’re throwing away your whole life. Please don’t shrug that off with a smile.”

Anakin’s expression drops.

“I wasn’t going to,” he says soberly. “I just didn’t want to do it all in front of her. You know, the personal stuff. She doesn’t need that.”

Padmé nods. “Of course she doesn’t,” she says. She takes his hand across the space between them. He squeezes it, a quick pulse of slightly too hard pressure. She says, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Anakin shakes his head, and she can see the anger rustle inside him.

“She’s all alone, Padmé,” he says. “You saw. The Order completely abandoned her. People she’s known since she was a little kid.” 

Padmé exhales. “I know. I can’t quite believe it. I do understand how they might have felt powerless to make another decision--”

“They’re the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy,” Anakin snaps, although quietly. “How much more powerful do they need to be?”

Padmé lets go of his hand and leans back slightly, trying to think how to answer this.

Padmé has heard the whispering, and not-quite-whispering, in the Senate and in public. She may have no respect for the Jedi Council’s decision, but she thinks she can see where it came from. She can also see how Anakin might not have noticed--the Jedi are his biggest blind spot. To him, they are flawed, but they loom so large.

“The Jedi aren’t as popular as they have been,” she says. “They’re not universally respected. I don’t think they’re even respected by the majority anymore. Their power is shrinking.”

Anakin looks ready to protest, and Padmé says, “Please, trust me. This is politics, not ideals, and I know.” She considers. “Sometimes you see more away from the battlefront.” 

“It can’t be that bad,” Anakin says.

“It’s bad,” she says. He absorbs that.

He says, “So the Jedi are doomed. And they’re supposed to gain power back by throwing away their best students?”

“I didn’t say they’re doomed,” Padmé corrects him. 

“After today, I don’t care if they are,” Anakin says, but she knows that isn’t true, so she lets it pass her by, unaddressed. 

She says, “I think they gave up Ahsoka because they were afraid to give any leverage to their detractors.”

“Well then they should have taken the loss!” Anakin snarls in a whisper. His fists are tight against the seat of the sofa. 

“Anakin,” says Padmé. “I’m on your side.”

He shuts his eyes, expression pained. His hands relax. “I know,” he says. “I’m just so angry.” 

“Angry enough to leave the Order?” she asks. “Couldn’t you have gone with her without quitting?”

“Being wishy-washy doesn’t send the right message,” Anakin says. “And besides, I’ve thought about leaving plenty of times. The Jedi are restrictive. They’re--they lack vision. And you know I don’t agree with them on the matter of attachment.” Indeed she does. “I don’t think even Obi-Wan would forgive me if he knew we were married. Maybe especially Obi-Wan.”

She isn’t sure about that, but she had such different expectations of Obi-Wan a few days ago.

“Leaving that aside,” she says, “are you sure?”

“I’ve already done it,” Anakin says. “And she needs me.”

Padmé nods slowly. “So you’ll go with Ahsoka,” she says. “Where will you go? Will you come back to Coruscant?” She pauses. “Will I see you?”

From his expression, Padmé isn’t sure he’s considered that. 

“We’re going to a Togruta colony. One of the neutral systems. And of course I’ll see you,” he says with uncertainty. 

“I don’t think she’ll want to come back here,” Padmé points out. 

He sighs. “It’ll get better,” he says. “I just need to go with her and be there, until I can leave and know she’s okay. That she’d let me find her again if I went somewhere else. I just want her to know someone’s still loyal to her.”

“How long do you think that will be?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Are you jealous?”

“ _No,_ ” she says. “We spend most of our time apart as it is. I’m just worried. And I’ll miss you.”

He gives her a hungry look. She can pick out the threads of anxiety lacing it. He hasn’t thought this through, but he’s committed now.

“I’ll always come back for you,” he says. “And who knows? Maybe now that I’m not a Jedi, we could be married in public. We could have another ceremony. Your parents could even be there.”

She gives a horrified laugh. Not because she doesn’t like her parents--she hardly knows them anymore, but she likes them. Only because they never learned about the first wedding and she doesn’t think they’d approve of the second. 

“Or not,” he says.

“Let’s wait and see,” she says. Because she’s not convinced he won’t go back to the Jedi, as certain as _he_ is right now. “If it makes sense in a while--I would like that.”

Anakin searches her with his eyes. Then, impulsive, he gets down on his knees on the floor between them and hugs her tightly around the waist, head pressed against her heart.

“I love you,” he says. “This is the right choice. I’m not going to disappear.”

“No,” she says, and runs a hand through his hair. “You’re going to have me as your ally. I’ll be there, no matter where you go.”

He shivers, then slowly gets up and retreats back to his place. 

“None of this is right,” he says. “I’m not _just_ leaving to follow Ahsoka, you know. It’s a complete betrayal. I don’t want to be a part of anything that would do that.”

“I understand,” she says. 

He laughs. “Of course,” he says. “Because you’re the most perfect being in the galaxy.”

“Well, as long as you remember that,” Padmé says, smiling, “I won’t worry about whether you’ll come back.”

“Padmé,” he says quietly. Just her name. She holds his hand while it’s here to be held.

 

**CHAPTER 5: PADME GOES TO A MEETING**

Weeks after Ahsoka and Anakin have left, Anakin keeps finding Padmé in all her empty moments and making up for being indefinitely far away. Today, Padmé says goodbye and breathes in the silence to a ringing of her nerves. It always feels like that, talking to Anakin. He warms her up and energizes her and leaves her yearning. She hates that he’s not quite happy, but she’s so happy to see him--even small and blue and infinitely far off.

The thing about Anakin’s exodus is that, strangely, Padmé gets to have more of him than she ever did before. When he was with the Jedi, he never dared to call her from the field--and he was always in the field. If she ever caught a glimpse of him in a holo transmission, it wasn’t aimed at her. She spent more time and energy not being seen looking at him than _seeing_ him. 

Now he talks to her all the time, and no one interrupts them. There’s no threat to his calling. She doesn’t think he’s happy, and that hurts her heart, but in some ways it’s the first time she feels like she really is married. The only thing missing, missing so badly, is touch.

Today she signs off, cheeks red and heart pounding, leaving herself just enough time to collect herself before her next meeting. The chancellor has summoned her to discuss some “present and alarming danger from the front,” which could mean almost anything. She knows who will be there and nothing else. She’s glad one of them will be Bail Organa, because the rest of this group sounds frankly awful.

They convene in Chancellor Palpatine’s office--Padmé, Bail, the Chancellor, Mas Amedda standing back with his characteristic stoicism, and three members of the Jedi Council: Mace Windu, Yoda, and Obi-Wan.

Inwardly, she sighs. Outwardly, she greets them all politely. Bail is his usual warm self, but Obi-Wan is cooler than usually--skittish, even, if that word could ever be applied to him. The Chancellor smiles at her and takes her hand warmly in his. 

“Thank you all so much for being here,” Palpatine says. Padmé feels a prick of irritation. She never used to mind the constant note of concern in his voice, but now it makes her ears ring. Where was that compassion when she asked for it?

“This meeting is called to discuss a--delicate matter,” he says. “Delicate in terms of politics and war, yes, but also because of whom it involves.”

“And who might that be, Chancellor?” Master Windu asks.

“Ah,” says the Chancellor, “I thought you might guess.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan says. “Please, enlighten us.” He says it archly, and Padmé sees the chancellor take notice. Maybe she isn’t the only one who is looking at Palpatine a little differently.

Yoda frowns. “No disrespect does Obi-Wan intend. Appreciative of your insights we are.”

Chancellor Palpatine inclines his head graciously, but does not crack a smile for any of the Jedi.

“News has come to me of a planet ravaged by terrorism,” he says. “A planet that is exporting its methods to other neutral systems and fighting back the Separatists…”

“All right. Surely that’s a good thing,” Master Windu says.

“Fighting back the Separatists _and_ the Republic,” the Chancellor says, voice hard.

“Successfully?” asks Bail.

“Successfully,” says the chancellor. “On four worlds so far--and I believe the same guerilla warfare is being carried out in several other systems.”

“You cannot blame them,” Obi-Wan says. “They are, after all, neutral systems. They do not want to be involved in this fight, and we can only say so much to convince them to take our side. To them, our presence is violence.”

“Ah, but who is convincing them _not_ to take our side?” Palpatine says. “After all, the rumors are spreading with the tactics. And the rumors say it is Jedi who have taught them what they know.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t bat an eye, but he doesn’t answer, either. None of the Jedi do.

“My understanding,” says Palpatine, “is that a small group of rebels on a planet called Onderon were instructed in stealth tactics by several Jedi, working outside the bounds of the Republic military.”

“Oh?” says Obi-Wan. The chancellor skewers him with a look, which he meets gamely.

“Oh, _yes_ ,” says Chancellor Palpatine. “At least three, by the names of Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker, and Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Oh, that,” says Obi-Wan. Master Windu looks pained. Chancellor Palpatine’s jaw is tight. 

“I would expect a little more contrition from someone who has enabled the terrorist undermining of our war,” he says.

“ _Our_ war, chancellor?” Obi-Wan says coolly.

“Master Kenobi,” says Yoda.

“Merely remarking on the interesting choice of words,” Obi-Wan says.

“As I would think you are aware,” says Palpatine, “treason does exist under the laws of the Republic. If I were you, I would have some concern about whether my actions qualified.”

Obi-Wan shuts his mouth. His eyes glint.

“Now,” Palpatine says, “I will not ask, at present, how you came to be equipping renegades to do battle against us. Although you should be courtmarshaled, and any further behavior of this kind _will_ result in that action.”

“Surely more of an investigation into the circumstances,” says Bail, but Palpatine raises one hand and he stops. 

Padmé looks to Master Windu and Master Yoda. She thinks it’s very unlikely that Obi-Wan would have done anything like what’s being described without the explicit permission of the Council, but neither of them are standing up to say so. Is this the same fear of disfavor that led them to abandon Ahsoka so easily? If Obi-Wan is afraid that’s what’s happening, he isn’t showing it. But then, he’s a good Jedi. Even Padmé, who reads people very well and has known him for so long, can’t always tell what he feels.

“I have many questions about what Master Kenobi was thinking, to be involved with such a dangerous plot. But what I want to know,” says Palpatine, “is whether you think it is likely that these systems are all gaining their knowledge from Onderon, or whether the lessons are being repeated on other neutral systems by former Padawan Tano and former general Skywalker. If so, it means they are acting in direct opposition to the Republic, and quite successfully. And if that is the case--ought we to seek them out?”

Everyone is silenced by that. _Treason_. The threat echoes.

“What makes you think it could be them?” Padmé asks eventually.

“I am aware that the two of them are among the neutral systems,” Palpatine says. “Together, and at loose ends, one presumes. They are strategically located and more than equipped to militarize the locals of nearby systems. With training, if not with equipment. And of course they have the motive to do so.” Padmé has to physically bite down on her tongue. 

“That’s going a bit far,” Master Windu says.

“Is it?” Chancellor Palpatine says, while Padmé tries to breathe through the incandescent rage of Palpatine saying this about _Anakin_. Anakin who trusts him, Anakin who has been treated like a favorite, Anakin, the favorite, suddenly being treated like a stranger. Being accused of _treason._ Oh, she is angry. And how does he know where they are, except that Anakin must have told him?

“A request for investigation, is this?” Yoda asks. 

“A request for information,” says Palpatine. “I will coordinate any investigation. But I thought you might like to come forward with any knowledge that you might have. To ease the process. For example, you might tell me if the Jedi are still aiding them in this project?”

“I don’t believe that they would accept any kind of assistance from us,” says Master Windu. “As to whether they are spreading these tactics--as you said yourself, you can trace them back to Onderon simply enough. Then you’ll know.”

“I don’t for a moment believe that they are doing this,” Padmé says firmly. “Even if the original training came from the Jedi.” 

Palpatine’s calculating eye falls on her, and his expression goes strangely gentle. “Oh?” he says solicitously. “Tell me, Senator Amidala, what do you think? I suppose you’ve been--in touch with Anakin?”

What does _that_ mean? She dislikes the comfortable way that he looks at her.

“Anakin and I are friends,” she says, voice calm, “and he has no reason to distrust me, as he does the Jedi.” A barely visible flinch passes through Obi-Wan; if she’s very honest, she is glad to see it. “I believe he has remained on a single planet with Ahsoka since they left Coruscant. I don’t believe they’ve been involving themselves in the war at all.”

“And you trust what he’s told you?” Palpatine asks, gentle and encouraging. It’s so condescending that she feels cold with anger.

“I do,” she says steadily. “If I may ask, chancellor, why am I in this meeting at all? I have nothing to do with training rebels, and I am mainly occupied with the concerns of Naboo.”

“My dear,” says Palpatine, and Padmé, with great willpower, does not commit treason herself, “you are known to have friends among the Separatists. You may have friends in other unknown places. And you are known for your--connection to Anakin. Besides, you represented Ahsoka Tano in court--to the best of your abilities--and you may feel some responsibility to her even now.” He smiles wanly. “In short, you’re a likely suspect.”

“Pardon me for my correction, chancellor,” she says, “but I had one friend among the Separatists. She attempted to make peace, and she is dead. As for Anakin, he’s only told me what I told you. I don’t believe he’s done anything like what you’re describing. I’m afraid I can’t help you any further with your investigation.”

“Very well,” says Palpatine. “I understand that it is an emotional issue.” Padmé schools her face.

“And my presence?” Bail asks.

“An impartial party,” suggests Palpatine. “Tell me, what do you think?”

“I think that if they are fighting against us, especially with any measure of success, then the wise thing to do would be to give them reason to end their opposition,” Bail says. “I think we have created this situation entirely ourselves. Compassion is a worthy asset in this matter.”

“Well said,” says Palpatine. “All right. I thank you all for your time. I will abide by your wisdom, Senator Amidala, and pursue the matter as though it is not linked to our castaways, for the time being. Master Jedi,” he adds, to Obi-Wan, “I may have more questions for you later.”

“Chancellor,” says Obi-Wan expressionlessly.

They leave the chamber, and on their way through the door, Obi-Wan bumps Padmé’s arm.

“Excuse me, Senator,” he says. He met Palpatine’s gaze well enough, but he’s avoiding hers. 

She’s curious, so she manages to move in such a way that she and Obi-Wan are separated from the other three. She watches Obi-Wan try to work out how she’s done it, and says, “Obi-Wan. You’re avoiding me.”

“Not at all,” says Obi-Wan smoothly, but he’s looking for an exit and it’s very obvious to her.

“You are,” she disagrees mildly. “But I don’t know why.”

“I suppose we haven’t had much to talk about,” he says, “and so it seems as if I’m avoiding you. But I promise you, that isn’t happening.”

Padmé has had enough of being patronized today. 

She says, “I think you feel guilty, and--” She holds it on her tongue a moment, weighing the risk. “--you know that next to yourself, I’m the person who cares about them the most.”

Obi-Wan says, “It was a tragedy and a mistake, but they have to do what they feel is right.”

“Have you spoken to Anakin?” she pushes.

“I will if he wants to speak,” he says stiffly. “Which I doubt he ever will. Anakin is very stubborn.”

She stops. There’s enough distance between them and the others, now, that she feels capable of honesty. 

“They both deserve better from you,” she says. “You’re their mentor. You’re their _friend_. You let the Council fail Ahsoka--”

“I didn’t _let_ ,” he whispers sharply. “I was outvoted, Padmé. I voiced my feelings and they didn’t matter.”

“So voice your feelings again,” she says. “Tell them.”

“They won’t care to hear that I _tried_ ,” Obi-Wan says. “Padmé, there’s no way for me to reach them that isn’t self-serving and fruitless. I’m sorry to disappoint you, I’m sorry to disappoint them, but there’s nothing I can do. We’re on opposite sides of more than the galaxy, and that isn’t going to change. Now, if you’ll please excuse me.”

Before she can say anything else, he extricates himself from her and practically flees. She has to stand very still for a minute and collect herself. Truly there shouldn’t be any disappointments left to uncover in this situation. Somehow, there always are.

 

**CHAPTER 6: THE ARTISAN COLONY**

It’s been three months, and Ahsoka loves it here. The Artisan Colony is quiet like no place Ahsoka has ever been. She grew up on Coruscant, where even in the depths of the Jedi Temple there was the energy of the endless city right outside, the flow of the Force through billions of people. She’s been to a hundred little systems where civilization was only a village in a vast wilderness, but she only ever went to those when they were in crisis. She was part of the noise, part of the violence and clamor. She didn’t know about quiet.

Jedi are supposed to be serene, but quiet doesn’t live with Ahsoka and it doesn’t live in her. What’s serene about war? What’s serene about being abandoned? The Jedi failed her, and she’s learning more about how they’ve failed her the longer she’s apart from them. 

But this place is quiet. She can learn here.

The Artisan Colony is beautiful and full of good people, but it is wounded. No one recovers from slavery--not just not overnight, she’s realizing, but ever. It doesn’t matter how briefly the citizens of this place were held captive. They know what it’s like to be ripped from their homes, tortured and murdered and trapped. They’ve all lost people, they’ve all lost parts of themselves. There’s pain under everything. 

Ahsoka doesn’t share that pain, but these are her people. She hasn’t endured what they have, but she can be with them while they struggle to regain peace and wonder, a sense of safety. She can take their side. And here--where meditation and hard work and art are more important than battling droids--she has felt herself begin to heal, as well. She has begun to find her quiet.

But Anakin. Ahsoka is very certain she has to do something about Anakin.

He doesn’t know about quiet, either, but she thinks he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to buckle down and meditate on daily tasks. He isn’t here for anyone but her, and he’s bad at hiding his misery. She doesn’t know what he wants, but in her evaluation, this is a disaster. Just like she expected. She could kill him, honestly.

~

Ahsoka has earned her keep in dozens of different ways since they landed. It’s like trying on new clothes until she finds what makes her feel at home in her body. She misses battle like an instinct, and she misses the specific kind of calm she felt within a maelstrom, but she’s learning that other kinds of work can be good. She likes the gardens the best, even if she gets a little fed up after a full day of weeds.

There are dozens of gardens sprinkled throughout the colony, as well as more farmland where the larger crops grow and milk animals are pastured. Everyone is assigned to a garden, where most of their food comes from, but if a neighborhood’s garden fails, others will chip in to feed them. No one goes hungry here unless everyone does.

Gardening gives her a lot of time to think, and today she’s thinking about Anakin. There are a few problems that she sees: he’s restless, and he’s lonely, and she’s afraid he blames her for his leaving the Jedi. She lets herself feel things, now that there are no Jedi strictures to stop her, and what she feels about Anakin is _mad_. Why did he have to drag himself after her like this? She was grateful at the time, but she _knew_ it would be like this.

They need to talk. 

At the end of her shift, she walks the ten minutes to the spiraling building where they live--which is weird, having your own place, and not just temporary quarters in the belly of the temple or a cruiser. She takes those ten minutes to get her nerve up, to feel the Force around her, like water buoying her up. The Force still belongs with her, even without the Jedi. She wears it like a cloak and dares anyone to tell her she can’t have it.

(Like her lightsabers. She earned them; she won’t give them up. They’re hers, no matter what the rules are.)

When she comes in, Anakin is sitting at their table. She catches him just as he throws a nutshell into the air and Artoo zaps it with electricity. She thinks it’s a one-time trick, but then she sees the pretty extensive pile of shells smouldering on the floor. 

“Planning to burn the house down?” she asks wryly, and he jumps up straight in his chair. 

He says, “Oh, hey, Snips!” and then snatches up an oily rag and bends down in front of Artoo like he’s in the middle of maintenance. Maintenance is what he’s been doing this whole time, on the colony’s droids and ships. He’s good at it, of course, but it’s not exactly diving headfirst into a firefight in a half-destroyed tin can, which she knows is what he really loves.

“Hello,” she says slowly back, ducking her head to get a close look at him. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, working,” Anakin says. “I mean, grabbing a snack. Fixing up Artoo. I ran out of stuff to do at the shop. The weather here makes his joints stiff.” He doesn’t realize it’s a tell, but she knows him very well; she watches the movements of his right hand, and just like she expects, they’re not quite right.

Artoo meeps unconvincingly.

“Okay,” says Ahsoka. She slides into the other chair at the table and folds her arms across the tabletop. “Did you have a good day?” she asks.

“Oh, sure!” Anakin says. 

He’s terrible at hiding any of his feelings. She sighs, steeling herself to leap in.

“Anakin,” she says. “Lately, you haven’t seemed...happy.”

“I’m doing fine,” he says. “Here, catch.” He throws a nut from his pocket. She catches the fiery red teardrop and turns it around in her hand.

“I think we need to talk,” she says.

“Oh really?” Anakin says. “What’s bothering you, Snips?”

“Don’t call me that just to get out of it,” she says. 

“Get out of what?” he says.

“You’re not happy here,” she tells him. “Just like I knew you wouldn’t be.”

Anakin says, too cheerful, “What are you talking about? Who wouldn’t be happy in a beautiful place like this?”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. “We’ve fought pirates _one time_ in the last three months. And that _one time_ , you looked like you were enjoying yourself. At the very least, I _know_ you’re dying of boredom.”

Anakin scrubs at the edge of a panel until it’s shiny, keeping silent.

He finally says, “I promised to come with you.”

“Yeah, you did,” she says. “And it was really nice of you. But you could go back to the Jedi and I wouldn’t blame you.” Her stomach is tight as she says it. She would blame him, a little. But he isn’t doing either of them any good, here.

Anakin throws down the rag and turns to her, eyes bright with anger. “No, Ahsoka, I would _not_ go back. Not a single one of them stands for what I thought they did. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

Ahsoka exhales. “You mean that,” she says.

“Yoda could call me right now,” Anakin says, meeting her gaze with a burning look. “ _Obi-Wan_ could call me right now. And I’d say exactly what I’m saying to you. I can’t share a faith with something that doesn’t have any.”

“Well, you still don’t have to stay here,” she says.

“Ahsoka,” he says. “I want to be where you are. I promised.”

“It’s been a long time,” she argues. “Months. And I’m all right now.”

“Are you?” he demands. “You’re not hiding from your feelings and pretending you’re content digging in the dirt all day?” He gestures at her soil-stained hands.

Stung, she says, “If I’m hiding my feelings, Anakin, you’re not hiding yours at all.” He opens his mouth to argue. She says, “You want to do what’s right for me. Well, what’s right for me just now is to sit with my feelings until I can work through them. Doing that here is working for me, but it’s not working for you, and it’s messing me up to have you hanging out here being bored and lonely and sad!”

He makes a small frown.

“I’m all right,” he says. “I’m just a little run down today, okay? All this peace is stressing me out.” He tacks a small smile onto the end and she grimaces. The problem with the joke is that it’s definitely true. 

“Anakin,” she says sharply. “What you’re doing isn’t fair.”

He looks at her without answering. 

“If you won’t leave,” she says, “at least get off planet. At least talk to people.”

“Talk to who?” he scoffs.

“Your friends,” Ahsoka says, exasperated. She says the next part even though it hurts. “All of my ties were to the Jedi, and those are completely gone. There’s no one for me to call home to. But you still have people, don’t you? You shouldn’t let them go just because you’re not a Jedi. Just because you’re here.” 

He waits.

“Padmé,” she says. 

“I already talk to her,” he tells her. “So, problem solved.”

“Obi-Wan,” she says, and his expression changes.

“I _won’t_ ,” he starts vehemently.

“You should,” she says, frustrated. “He’s your best friend.”

“He screwed that up,” says Anakin in a snarl.

“Tell me it’s not eating you up!” she says loudly. “I can’t stand it being like this, Anakin. Things can’t get better if me trying to make things better is ruining your life!”

Anakin’s shoulders sag. 

“Just try,” she says. “Okay? I mean--can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he says. “I...I promise I’ll talk to Obi-Wan and...go on a day trip. Fight something, maybe. _If_ you promise not to disappear.”

“Oh, thank you,” says Ahsoka. “Because I can’t stand it.”

Anakin laughs. “You know, you could come offplanet with me. Find something useful to clean up, off the record.”

“Maybe so,” she says, after a pause. “But I’m not sure...I want to fight. I mean, when trouble comes here, I don’t mind--I just. It’s good to have distance, to understand how I feel about everything.”

“I know exactly how I feel about everything,” says Anakin staunchly. She _knows_ that. That’s the problem.

“So go on your field trips,” she says. “And if I want to come along, I’ll ask. Just promise me you’ll talk to one other person besides the two of us. About something real. You can’t just sit here fake-cleaning Artoo and being fake-cheerful. That’s no good for either one of us.”

“Okay, okay,” Anakin says. “I promise.”

“Good,” she says. 

**CHAPTER 7: A TALK WITH PALPATINE**

Anakin takes Ahsoka’s advice, but cowardly at first. He doesn’t call Obi-Wan. He calls Padmé. He calls Padmé, and as always, is almost limp with relief when she answers. He holds a hand up to stroke the cheek of her image, which must look a little funny on her end.

“Anakin,” she says. “How are you?”

“I miss you,” he says. “Ahsoka is getting better. She wants me to go offplanet and find some excitement.”

“That’s because she knows you very well,” Padmé says.

“I’d throw away all the excitement in the galaxy to be with you,” he says.

She laughs. “No, you wouldn’t,” she says. “Besides, I don’t think I like it very much that you think I’m not part of the excitement you’d be throwing away.”

“What?” he exclaims. “No. Your excitement is very real. Very real, and in my plan, it stays.”

She laughs again. “Always the charmer,” she says. He thinks she means it, but not in the way he’d like her to. 

“I’ll come see you soon,” he says. The yearning inside him is so bright and hot that he feels it all the way out to his skin.

“I’ll look forward to it,” Padmé says.

“I’ll tell everyone about us,” he adds, and she hesitates. He knows she wants to keep his options open. He isn’t sure how many more ways he can tell her that he’s not going back to the Jedi. He thinks he’ll just have to spill their secret before he’s ever convinced her, just because it won’t happen otherwise and she’ll be waiting their whole lives for him to rejoin the Order. 

“We’ll see,” she says.

He sighs. “I miss you,” he says. “So much I would fold the galaxy in half to get to you. So much I feel sick.”

Her expression is soft and hungry. “I miss you, too,” she says. “You’d better come home soon. Just so I can see your face.”

“Is that all?” he asks, grinning.

“No,” she says, laughing. “That’s not all.”

He smiles, satisfied by her response and so completely unsatisfied by their situation.

“Anakin,” she says. “You didn’t really answer my question. Are you all right?”

Anakin shuts his eyes. “It’s all right. Just this place.”

“What about it?” Padmé asks.

His first instinct is to shut it all away and say nothing. He nearly does. But this is Padmé, not Ahsoka, who was always too innocent, or Obi-Wan, who wanted to coach him into leaving his past behind. This is Padmé, who can’t imagine but who sees him anyway.

“The people here,” he says. “They’ve been enslaved. They’re still living in that pain. It’s everywhere around me, I can’t—”

Padmé clucks. “Of course you can’t,” she says. 

“I mean, I can,” he says. “But I can feel all of them, hurting. And it’s so quiet here that I can’t feel anything else.”

“Anakin,” she says, and he thinks she sounds a little hopeless.

“I know. I know!” he says. “I’m driving her nuts too.”

“I don’t think either of us are worried about you being annoying,” Padmé says.

He sighs. “I feel okay going offplanet soon,” he says. “I think this place is good for her. And that will distract me.”

“Are you making friends?” she asks.

“That’s what Ahsoka said!” Anakin exclaims. “I don’t know, I keep wanting to call Chancellor Palpatine, but that just seems--inappropriate, maybe.”

Padmé frowns. “Anakin, I think you may be right. I’m not sure he has your best interests in mind.”

“What? That’s not what I mean,” Anakin says. “I mean Ahsoka might take it wrong, and I’m not sure how angry to be with him about this whole thing.” He’s always assumed they would speak again at some point--he feels a little prick of panic at the idea of their relationship fading into nothing, Anakin stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Padmé says, “I didn’t tell you because he let it drop--but when you and Ahsoka first left, he questioned us about whether you were inciting insurgencies in the Neutral Systems.”

“What?” Anakin says, laughing. “Well, even if he thought that, I’m sure he wouldn’t care.”

“Anakin, he made it sound like treason,” Padmé says. 

Anakin swallows. “You’re overreacting,” he tells her. A tickle of doubts brushes against his skin. He should have called Palpatine before now. To make sure they were in agreement. To make sure Palpatine understood what Anakin was doing.

“Don’t tell me I’m overreacting,” Padmé says. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe from the chancellor?” Anakin says. “I think you’re being paranoid.”

Padmé says sharply, “I hope you’re not underestimating me just because it’s convenient. Because that is how it seems from here.”

“It was probably a misunderstanding. I’m sure if I spoke with him, I could clear it up,” Anakin says.

Padmé sighs. “I just want you both to take care of yourselves.”

“We will,” Anakin says. “I promise, okay?”

Anakin doesn’t want to argue about Palpatine anymore, so he plies Padmé for gossip and teases her about her hair until he can almost see her blushing from half a galaxy away.

~

 

Anakin leaves his conversation with Padmé flirting and happy, but he can’t shake the anxiety. It’s really doing what Ahsoka asked him, he tells himself. He calls Palpatine.

 

He hasn’t done it before this because he’s been wrestling with how angry to be. That part was true. It was the chancellor who called for Ahsoka to be tried away from the Jedi. It was the chancellor who nearly gave her that sentence. The sentence that haunts him, because he doesn’t know what was in it but he can _guess,_ from the way Padmé relayed everything to him. 

On the other hand. Just now Padmé treated him like an actual enemy, so maybe Padmé is wrong. And Anakin can see why the chancellor acted the way he did. Of course he thought it was in the best interest of the Republic. Of course he didn’t trust the Jedi to be impartial. And he doesn’t know Ahsoka as well as Anakin or the Council do. He made a mistake, but unlike the Council, he didn’t commit a betrayal. 

The other, more secret part of the equation is that Anakin misses him. It’s an embarrassing, twisting creature in his gut. It feels like an illness, how he misses him. He’s nearly called, over and over, and stopped himself because it wouldn’t be fair to Ahsoka.

Those feelings, fear that something is wrong, and Ahsoka’s encouraging him not to alienate his friends, are what allow Anakin to finally call him. Anakin sits in the humid outdoors, feeling his prosthetic fingers creak as he unconsciously moves them, and summons his nerves. He halfway doesn’t expect an answer--the chancellor is a busy man, to say the least--but Palpatine’s small blue figure springs up from the holo device, and a barely readable look of relief passes over his face.

“My dear boy,” he says. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Hi,” Anakin says awkwardly, and then, “Sir.”

“Anakin,” says the chancellor kindly, and then looks away from him. “You may go,” he says. “I must take this call.” He is silent for a few seconds, obviously waiting for someone to leave. Then he says, “We’ve missed you very much on Coruscant, Anakin. Where have you been?”

“The Togruta Artisan colony,” Anakin says, because he has no reason to lie about that. “On Kiros.”

The chancellor makes a noise of surprise. “A neutral system,” he says.

“We’re neutral players, sir,” Anakin says. 

“Yes,” says the chancellor slowly. “I suppose you are.” Some emotion boils under the surface of his words, but Anakin can’t identify it. 

Anakin blurts, “Sir, may I ask you something--delicate?”

“Of course, my boy,” the chancellor says. 

“I heard something,” says Anakin. “I heard that you accused me and Ahsoka of treason.”

Palpatine frowns, with a small shake of his head. That shake instantly covers Anakin’s spirit with a blanket of relief. He doesn’t even need to hear the rest, but he’s hungry for it just the same. 

“What was the matter in question?” Palpatine says. “I’m sorry, Anakin, I can’t even think what that would mean.”

“Something about training neutral world guerillas,” Anakin says. 

Palpatine laughs. “I called you rebels!” he says. “But you are no longer in our jurisdiction. Were you doing such a thing, we’d have no basis for prosecuting you even if we wanted to.”

“That wouldn’t be the first time,” Anakin says, before he can stop himself. 

A look of remorse spreads over Palpatine’s face. “Anakin, I cannot apologize profoundly enough for what happened with the girl. I truly thought I was dispensing justice. If I’d had any indication that she was innocent…and then, when I think of what _I_ nearly did, I’m...horrified. Truly horrified.”

Anakin feels a rush of anger and anxiety, and tries to swallow it before remembering he’s no Jedi, and he doesn’t have to lie about his feelings if he doesn’t want to.

“What did you almost do?” he says roughly. Maybe it’s not wise, Jedi or not, to snap at the leader of half the galaxy. But they’re intimate enough that he can get away with it, aren’t they? And the chancellor knows it’s fair.

Palpatine hesitates, thoughtful. “Do you really want the answer to that?” he asks gently.

Anakin sits there with the word _yes_ frozen in his mouth.

“Let the past be the past,” Palpatine says. “In that way, at least, the Jedi are right. Look forward, my boy. Especially when it comes to a past that never took place.” He shakes his head. “Suffice it to say, I’m grateful for my own conscience and for both your sakes that no sentence was laid down.”

Anakin’s gut twists. He feels the question claw its way up his throat, but Palpatine speaks again before he can ask it. 

“I suppose you’ll never forgive me,” Palpatine says. “I would understand that.”

“No,” Anakin says automatically.

“No, you won’t forgive me?” says Palpatine gravely. 

“No, I--” says Anakin. He shakes his head. “It’s complicated. I can’t help thinking about what could have happened. I don’t blame you so much. But forgive me if all of it makes me very angry.” It all feels unbelievably daring to say out loud.

“Let go of the past,” Palpatine reiterates. “It will only torment you. But--a word of advice from a not too unsuccessful politician--keep the anger. It will remind you whom you can trust.”

“And who’s that?” Anakin asks. 

“Perhaps not me,” Palpatine says with a sigh. “That is up for you to decide. But certainly not the Jedi, wouldn’t you think? Of course you think so, or you wouldn’t be on the edge of the galaxy, eschewing them all for the sake of your former apprentice. They’ve committed an atrocity, haven’t they? It’s very hard to forgive that.” He pauses. “If I were you, I never would. Your anger is justified.”

It reflects Anakin’s feelings so well that it’s like a shock of cold water. He’s always been angry, so the idea that he might be angry about this for the rest of his life is not new or revelatory. He’s just not used to having it validated by anyone else.

“It’s hard,” Anakin says. “They were my whole life.”

“And they cheated you,” Palpatine says, as if he’s agreeing. “Typical of Jedi, I think. To play the holy card and then take the easy route for political convenience. They did it to protect their own interests, of course, but one wonders why Ahsoka wasn’t one of those interests.”

Anakin has wondered the same thing many times.

“At least my politics are honest,” Palpatine muses. “To dress one’s self-interest in religion and righteousness is despicable. If you asked me.”

“No,” Anakin says. “You’re right.” _He’s right_ , he tells himself. Obi-Wan’s voice, panicked and invisible as Anakin signed off forever, rises in his mind. _But it’s your fault,_ he tells his mental Obi-Wan. _It’s your fault I had to leave._

Politics. He can’t believe the Jedi compromised themselves so thoroughly over politics.

“I’m so glad that you chose to go with her,” the chancellor says, as if reading his thoughts. “Imagine what a greater calamity it would have been if she had left alone. I shudder to think.”

“Me too,” Anakin says. All at once, certainty uncurls in his chest; he feels certain about being with Ahsoka, even if he doesn’t like this planet. Much more than he has been for a long time. Ahsoka needs him, he thinks. It’s good that he came. 

“You must let me know if there is anything I can do for the two of you,” Palpatine says. “And I beg of you, dear boy--do not be so out of touch. You may no longer be a Jedi, but that does not diminish you. Neither how exceptional you are, nor my esteem for you.”

Anakin feels a stir of pride and comfort. He’d forgotten, in these months, how alert and also reassured he feels when he talks to the chancellor. 

“Chancellor,” he agrees.

“Please be well,” Palpatine says. Anakin wants to ask him to keep talking. Hearing his voice and seeing his face is bringing Anakin back to life second by second. But the chancellor is a busy man.

“You too,” he says, and the chancellor signs off. Anakin expels a breath. His heart is pounding, unexpectedly, and he realizes he’s been tensing every muscle. 

Ahsoka was right. There are still, possibly, people he can trust. Not the way he did before. But it’s a beginning.

 

**CHAPTER 8: ANAKIN AND AHSOKA ARE GOING TO DO ACTION**

Pirates scout out the colony one day, and the colonists come running for Ahsoka and Anakin. “You helped before,” gasps a woman whom Ahsoka remembers from Kadavo. 

“Keep out of sight,” Ahsoka orders, dropping what she’s doing to run for home and the lightsabers she’s not supposed to have. (She keeps thinking about it, but she made them and earned them and why should she follow the rules anyway? The rules failed her.) 

She contacts Anakin on the way, and he answers in the jaunty, distant way he’s been speaking for days. It hurts her feelings a little and worries her more, but there’s no time for that now.

“Pirates,” she says, and that changes his tune. 

“I’m on my way, Ahsoka,” he says. He doesn’t ask her to bring his lightsaber with her; he’s never put his down.

 _He doesn’t belong here_ , she thinks about that, but once again: there isn’t time.

The pirates take hostages when Ahsoka and Anakin arrive, and the two of them fight side by side like that haven’t since they left the Order. They’re out of shape and it shows; at the same time, what Ahsoka expects to hurt feels like oxygen reaching her muscles for the first time in months. She’s paying so much attention to that—to the familiar feeling of control, of clearheadedness, of being awake—that she doesn’t register Anakin’s fury until it’s fully erupted.

One of the pirates has a father and son tugged right against his chest, a blaster pressed hard against the son’s head. 

“You’ll want to stop fighting us now!” shouts the hostage-taker. Anakin and Ahsoka both freeze, Ahsoka breathing hard and Anakin so still that it fills her with instant foreboding. That look in his eyes—she already knows the pirate is making a mistake. 

“Let them go,” she says. It’s a warning but the pirates think it’s a plea. They laugh. 

One of them says, “You’re those Jedi old Hondo is always having trouble with, aren’t you? Can’t imagine what he finds so difficult.”

Ahsoka grits her teeth and doesn’t bother to correct him. 

Anakin says, “You don’t know anything about Jedi and you don’t know anything about us.” His voice sends a chill down her spine. He sounds like this so rarely. They must have hit a nerve. 

“Anakin,” she says slowly.

But Anakin is moving without stopping for her. He flings out a hand and the hostage-taker flies backwards as his captives hit the ground. Anakin is on him in a few long strides, the pirate cries out with the beginning of a plea, and then Anakin’s lightsaber swipes brutally across his neck.

Ahsoka has no time to process this before the other pirates have rushed forward with a shout. She thinks they’re being foolish until she realizes that their ship is on the other side of Anakin and her. 

“Anakin!” she shouts. “What do you want to do?”

Anakin jabs his lightsaber forward and a pirate falls to the ground with a sick gurgle. Ahsoka is distracted by an opponent of her own. She fights him back, waiting for Anakin to say anything. She realizes after a moment that he’s not her master anymore, that she can make this decision for herself—but Anakin, pirate caught in his Force grip, says, “Get back on your ship. And tell your masters, _once again_ , that you don’t want to be here.”

His hand tightens, and his captive fights to gasp. 

“ _Anakin,”_ Ahsoka says. Anakin blinks, and a blankness comes over his features. He throws the pirate down, which the pirate answers by scrambling to his feet and running for the ship.

“Typical Jedi,” shouts one of them when he’s clear of them both. “Murderers and warmongers. You’re no better than us!”

They’re boarded and taking off in half a minute, leaving behind Ahsoka, Anakin, and a crowd of grateful colonists. 

They do their best to reassure everyone, turn down any kind of repayment, and break themselves free, to Ahsoka’s relief. Her head is buzzing with too many other trains of thought.

Anakin is silent as they walk. Ahsoka says, “So much for not fighting angry.”

Anakin says, “I’m not a Jedi.”

She thinks about that. She wishes she knew if it hurts him, but he doesn’t let anyone in that deep. She says, “What are you upset about?”

Anakin grows furtive. But his being a little embarrassed won’t make her less uneasy about the way he killed that pirate, the way he slowly squeezed, looking like he was about to catch fire.

“Anakin,” she says. “I’m not a kid. And something is wrong. Did you fight with Obi-Wan?”

He says tightly, “I didn’t speak with Obi-Wan.”

“Oh,” she says. She tries not to be flattered. 

“This place is full of former slaves,” he says. “Former slaves who are still hurt. And they’re still being hurt. I guess I just boiled over.”

Ahsoka walks herself through that, and says, “Why didn’t you tell me this place would be awful for you?”

“Because it’s not about me,” Anakin snaps. “And I didn’t know.”

She says evenly, “Yeah, but you don’t need to yell at me, do you?”

Anakin takes a deep breath and exhales, glaring into the ground. “No,” he says. “It’s just--I feel all of them, all the time. When someone came to hurt them more, I just--snapped.”

“You didn’t do anything that bad,” Ahsoka says. “They would’ve killed people.”

Anakin is silent.

“You really need some action,” says Ahsoka. “And some breathing room.”

Anakin says slowly, “I keep thinking that. I heard we were being credited for awhile with spreading guerrilla tactics through the neutral systems.”

“Well, that definitely wasn’t us,” Ahsoka says.

“They’ve traced it back to Onderon since then.”

“Really?” Ahsoka says. “But that’s good! That’s exactly what we hoped for.” She shakes her head. “I wasn’t even sure Onderon would remain stable.”

“So far so good, it seems,” says Anakin. He adds, “But some of the neutral worlds are fighting off the Republic, not the Separatists.”

“It’s their right not to take a side in the war,” Ahsoka says. “We can’t stop the spread of ideas based on our own convenience.” _Our. Was_ she part of the Republic anymore? 

“I’m not sure the chancellor agrees,” Anakin says with a grin. Ahsoka’s stomach squeezes in on itself.

“Oh,” she says. “The chancellor told you this.”

“I called him because there was a misunderstanding,” Anakin said. “Padmé thought he was accusing us of treason.” He says it like a big joke, and Ahsoka wants to hit him. Part of her is kicking up into a wild anxiety. Is it going to happen again? Are they going to make her a fugitive again?

Anakin seems unaware of her fears.

“Wouldn’t that be something new and exciting?” she says. 

Anakin’s expression slips. “I don’t mean there’s anything to worry about. I talked to him--”

“You gave our location to someone who thought we were traitors?” Ahsoka demands.

“No, I-” He looks bewildered. “But he said it’s okay, it was just a misunderstanding.” He runs a hand through his hair, which is getting wilder by the day. She never would have guessed the mess it usually is was so carefully maintained, but what does she know about hair? “I don’t know what to think. Padmé is the one who told me he suspected us. I trust both of them.”

Ahsoka feels a little sick. “I trust Padmé,” she says.

Anakin stops in the street. “It’s not the Chancellor's fault,” he starts. 

“You weren’t in that courtroom, Anakin,” Ahsoka says tightly. She grips her arms. “He wasn’t sorry at all. He was—he was terrifying.”

“He didn’t have all the information,” Anakin protests. 

“Neither did you,” she shoots back. “But you looked.” She shivers. Palpatine’s face, looking down at her in that cold, terrible room… “So did Padmé. But not him. He couldn’t wait to convict me.”

Anakin quietly begins walking again. She can’t tell if he believes her or not. 

“Anyway,” she says, “that doesn’t change that we did a good thing, going to Onderon.” She thinks of the clean feeling of a fight rushing through her veins, the feeling of making people capable and strong. “I’d do it again,” she adds.

Anakin seems to forget their argument. He tilts his head to look at her. “You would, would you? I thought you weren’t fighting anymore.”

“This felt good,” she says. “It felt—right. Maybe I’m ready to do something again.” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m not sure I’m a farmer.”

Anakin, trying to look grave, looks so relieved she could laugh or cry. 

“Well, what do you think?” she asks him. “Do you want to get off planet? Do something heroic? Maybe commit that treason after all?”

He rolls his eyes and she grins. He looks her up and down. 

“All right, Snips,” he says. “I’ll go along for this ride. You just point me and shoot.”

She doesn’t want to think of him as a weapon, but she feels so good that she can’t argue with his choice of words. 

“Just be ready,” she says. “You and me are going places.”

 

**CHAPTER 9: OBI-WAN IS A DISASTER**

“You know, General, you might be difficult to read sometimes, but I’ve got a keen enough eye for when a man’s attention is elsewhere.”

Obi-Wan’s mind is full of dark things. They hush themselves and clamber to the edges of his thoughts at the interruption. He’s stretched out in bed—Cody’s, not his—with his arms clasped under his head. Cody, half dressed, is watching him from the tiny table, a drink dangling from his fingers.

“I’m all right, Cody,” Obi-Wan says, mild with not paying attention. He’s obsessing. Jedi aren’t supposed to obsess. He should be facing forward, not looking back—but he can’t loose himself from the idea that the past is going to catch him. Or that he’s failed it. 

Cody tips his chair back and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m aware of the certain limitations placed on our involvement,” he says, “but I do like to feel that you want to be here.”

Obi-Wan stirs guiltily, rolling onto his side and dragging up the blankets. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m an abomination.”

Cody gets up and leans in to kiss the foolish words out of his mouth.

“You’ve got a purpose you’re not fulfilling,” he says. “That’s all right. But the kind of thing that won’t let you go even when you’re meant to be letting go, that’s something to deal with as soon as you can. Whatever is eating you up—you’d better eat it right back.”

“I can’t,” says Obi-Wan. “I’ve been told to let it go.” _It_ could refer to either of the things rolling around in his head. He’s been in enough trouble over both of them lately. So many months of silence, and he feels like he’s pitching tantrums alone. 

Cody considers, then sets his drink down and climbs back into bed. He props his head on one hand. 

“Tell me the problem,” he says. “Maybe I can crack it.”

Obi-Wan would rather not. He has no doubt of Cody’s abilities or intentions, but the whole course of Obi-Wan’s thoughts is a poison tangle. He doesn’t know how to find his own way through, and he doesn’t dare draw anyone else in. 

_Maul,_ he thinks. _Maul._ And he thinks of Satine’s strangled surprise and the weight of her body, and it seems to him once again like this is the closest thing to a problem he can fix.

It isn’t vengeance. It’s just a correction, in a world that is out of balance. As long as Maul and his brother are out there, the Force will shift and suffer. 

“General,” says Cody. “Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan snaps back to attention. 

“Sorry,” he says. “ _Sorry,_ Cody. You’re right, this is something I have to deal with swiftly. If it makes you feel any better, I think I’m almost there.”

“You need backup?” Cody asks.

“This will be off the books, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan says. His hand carelessly brushes down Cody’s arm. 

“No one asked if it was on the books,” Cody says, “but I take your point. Be careful out there.” He rests his hand on Obi-Wan’s jaw, so that Obi-Wan feels his pulse reverberating between them. He shuts his eyes and breathes into the feeling. 

“I’ll be careful,” he says. “I’m always careful.”

The hand is removed.

“You never are,” says Cody, with humor in his voice. “Not when you’re on your own.”

“I’ll try this time,” Obi-Wan says. 

~

It’s two days after that when Obi-Wan finally tears open the mystery he’s been picking at for months. Maul. Where he is. What he’s doing. Whom he is murdering now. It makes Obi-Wan angry, so angry, that the Jedi Council has turned their backs on what is so clearly a matter for their attention, merely because—once again, merely because—the Chancellor has requested it.

Peacekeepers, that’s what Barriss thought they should be. And although what she did was horrific, he can’t think she was entirely wrong about that. So this--stopping Maul, who is spreading crime and terror through the galaxy, partly in Obi-Wan’s name--this is keeping the peace.

He knows where Maul is, now, so he knows where to go.

The knowledge scratches at him all the way through a Council meeting, and then a separate meeting with Yoda and Mace Windu, until he wants to burst out of his skin. It’s very unlike him, perhaps, but he hasn’t felt like himself since—well. Things have changed.

“Master Kenobi,” Yoda says before they part ways. “Troubled, you are, and troubles you will find, should you not set your heart to discipline and peace.”

Obi-Wan hasn’t been so frustrated with Yoda since he was a boy. He tries to flatten out his mind, into something Yoda can’t read so easily.

“Yes, Master Yoda,” he says. But like many things lately, he doesn’t feel it. Yoda dismisses him and he flees, only to be interrupted by a call from Padmé.

“Obi-Wan,” she says, “have they told you anything?”

“I’m sorry, Senator,” he says. “Has who told me what?”

“Anakin and Ahsoka. I’m going to come see you—or you should see me. Where’s the best place?”

Obi-Wan can’t ignore bait like that. He resigns himself to a later escape than planned and agrees to meet her well away from both temple and senate.

When she sees him, she gives him a hug that feels like the first rush of warmth against cold skin. He’s been so cold to her lately that he’s shocked that she does it. 

“I feel like I never see you now,” she says. “Not even when we're in the same room.”

“I’m sure that’s my fault, in part,” he says. “What is it, Padmé?”

“Since that meeting we had with the Chancellor, about Onderon and the other worlds, there have been—increasing reports,” she says.

“Of what sort?”

“Someone _is_ actively teaching rebels how to rebel,” she says. “And it seems more widespread than before. Training rebels, and taking out Separatist outposts without leaving any message behind. Anakin won’t tell me if they’re doing it, have they said anything to you?”

Obi-Wan’s feels a flutter of excitement. It is them, it must be. They’re alive and still themselves. But poisoning the flush of joy is bitterness. “No, Padmé, they haven’t told me anything. I’m sorry if you were under any misapprehension; I haven’t spoken to them at all. Not since they left.”

Something enters Padmé’s expression that he can’t entirely read, except that he hopes it’s not directed at him.

“I’m sorry not to be of help,” he adds. 

“No, it’s all right,” she says. “Although I wish it weren’t true.”

“If that’s the course they must take, there is little I can do about it,” he says smoothly. Already he wants out of this conversation and off this planet. _Maul_. Obi-Wan mustn’t miss his chance, to finally take down him and his monstrous brother.

Padmé looks annoyed with him at this point. “Well, I think they’re working from Kiros,” she says. “If you want to change your course at all.”

Obi-Wan’s pulse jumps, because it’s not so far from where he plans to go. But that doesn’t matter.

“I’m sorry, Padmé, but I do not think that will happen,” he says. Something stirs in him that he latches onto as impatience. “I am sorry I can’t be of more help. Now I’m afraid I must attend to something.”

“Wait,” Padmé says. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep walking away when I try to talk to you.”

“You don’t seem to understand, Padmé,” he says. “They left the Jedi. They want nothing to do with the Jedi. I _am_ the Jedi. I _am_ the Council that destroyed their faith. _I_ am what they’ve run from.”

He turns and leaves before his name can call him back. If a small voice tells him he could go to them, fix something, help them, ask for their help, he silences it. He crushes it into the depths of his mind and sweeps out the remains.

Maul. First he’ll deal with that.

 

**CHAPTER 10: ANAKIN IS MARRIED**

Anakin and Ahsoka have just finished taking out a nest of droids that are scouting an innocent neutral colony. In the next few days, they’ll teach the colonists to do the same. For once, Anakin and Ahsoka take a moment to rest and bask in what they’ve done. Ahsoka stretches her arms, smiling at Anakin. Anakin smiles back. He’s so proud of her, prouder every day. Every mission they send themselves on, she finds more of her confidence and rhythm. She leads, he follows. If they were home, she’d have reached the end of her apprenticeship. 

“We’ve gotta be careful around here,” he cautions her. “There’s more than droids around. More and more organized crime is cropping up in this sector. That can be harder to handle than tin cans.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” asks Ahsoka. “Come on, Anakin. I know what I’m doing.”

“Sorry, of course you know,” Anakin says. “You know everything...because I’m a genius teacher.”

“Is that why people were always frowning at me and saying, _Of course, she is Master Skywalker’s Padawan, that explains her terrible behavior_?” Ahsoka crouches down in the dust next to the rock where he’s sitting and grins. 

“Those people were just shortsighted fools,” Anakin scoffs. 

Ahsoka gives him a long look. 

“What?” he says. “Okay, fine, you’re a genius student, and you’re not even my student anymore, you’re all grown up and in control and I’m very proud. Happy?”

“You still miss them,” she says. 

That stops Anakin. He could shoot back an answer without thinking, but he gives it the consideration it deserves. Before he opens his mouth, he decides to walk right past the issue of Obi-Wan. Of course Anakin feels things about leaving him behind, but Obi-Wan made a choice. Obi-Wan stands with the Jedi. He hasn’t even tried to talk to them since they left, which says everything Anakin needs to hear.

“No,” he says. “I mean, some things. I miss the 501st. And leading people. I don’t miss being a Jedi.”

“Really?” she says.

He expected to miss it more--the Order itself. But truthfully, it always fit slightly wrong, like he was being constricted, or--like when he and Obi-Wan were captured with Dooku. Like he was tied to someone and they were trying to walk in just a slightly different direction. 

He says, “I miss Padmé.” 

“You talk to Senator Amidala a lot, don’t you?” Ahsoka says, not like she thinks talking should be enough for him, but like an invitation. 

“As often as I can,” he says. “Not that it’s the same as being in the same place.” He swallows down a rush of frustration. He wants to be where Padmé is so badly. He wants to touch her so much he can feel it in both palms. 

“You’re not used to it?” Ahsoka says. “You always spent all your time away from her.”

“Yes, but to no purpose, now,” he says.

“I’m not stopping you going back,” Ahsoka reminds him. “You being out here is all on you. You know, aside from the rumors of sedition.”

“You know the chancellor has assured me they don’t think that,” Anakin says. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant. I mean there were certain reasons to be cautious about how much time I spent with the senator...while I was still a Jedi. I think those reasons are gone. She disagrees. She doesn’t entirely believe that I’m not going back.”

Ahsoka says, “You were too close to her? Well, that’s not surprising. I saw the way you two were together. And if anyone was going to form attachments, Anakin, I think it’s you.”

He laughs, startled into it. “You don’t know the half of it,” he says. 

“Oh, boy,” she says. “You’re going to tell me now, aren’t you?”

“If you want to know,” he says.

She winces. “I just really think you’re going to tell me.”

“Get ready for this, then, Snips,” he says. “I’m married. Senator Amidala is my wife.”

Ahsoka stares at him open-mouthed.

“ _Anakin_ ,” she says.

He nods soberly.

“ _Anakin_. What about all those things you said to me about purpose before feelings? What about all that stuff with Lux Bonteri? I barely even had a crush and I thought you were going to lose your mind. You weren’t already married then, were you?”

“First of all, I had my reasons. I didn’t think you could hide it nearly as well as I did,” Anakin says. “Second of all, that boy was not nearly good enough for you. And third of all, yes, I was married then. I’ve been married since before you became my padawan.”

“ _An-a-kin,_ ” she says in three horrified syllables. 

“I’ve been in love with her since before I was even a Jedi,” he says, and it’s exciting and a relief how easy the words are to say. 

“You were a little kid,” she says, frowning.

“I really form those attachments,” he says. 

“You’re a menace,” she says. He can’t tell whether she thinks it’s funny--he does, except for how seriously he takes it--or whether she’s really angry at him. 

“If it makes you feel better,” he says, “we didn’t even tell her parents. I didn’t tell anybody. You’re the first to know.”

“I’m honored,” she says, and he thinks she’s about to say more when her expression goes keen and distant. “Anakin,” she says.

“I feel it, too,” Anakin says, because he does now. He’s angry to feel it, except that it instantly worries him, too.

“A disturbance in the Force,” says Ahsoka. “And it’s Obi-Wan.”

 

**CHAPTER 11: OBI-WAN FINDS MAUL**

The journey to Zanbar is long. It would be a perfect opportunity for Obi-Wan’s doubts to drive their nails into him, if he weren’t by force of will holding them back from his conscious thoughts. No; his thoughts are fixed on Maul and his brother, on overcoming them both and bringing balance to some small piece of the Force. It isn’t revenge for Satine, for Adi, for any of the other jedi and civilians they’ve killed. It’s balance.

Obi-Wan arrives at night, emerging from his ship into sultry air haunted by raucous shouts and laughter. There’s occasional sound and flare of blaster fire. Obi-Wan sees one figure dart through the air, a silhouette half illuminated by a jet pack.

Death Watch. The reports were accurate.

Obi-Wan creeps into the camp, feeling his way by Force, seeking out Maul and his brother. He feels the malevolence of Maul spreading through the camp like a stain--an unexpected blend of darkness, made of rage and hunger but also grief and fear.

He doesn’t feel Savage at all.

Obi-Wan chases Maul’s scent like an animal, slipping through the camp unseen. His nerves are shrieking, his breathing quick and quiet. His lightsaber is gripped in one hand, but he doesn’t ignite it. He sneaks into the building where he senses Maul’s presence. Maul is set up, kinglike, at the center of the room. When Obi-Wan sees him, he has to freeze and swallow down the anger that rises in him.

This isn’t for revenge. This is for balance.

Maul is speaking to three members of the Death Watch. Savage isn’t here; Obi-Wan realizes that he must be offplanet, on some heinous mission or other. It’s frustrating. Still, he has to acknowledge that his odds of taking them are far better if it’s one on one. He waits until the Death Watch are dismissed, and then steps into the pale yellow lamplight, somewhat behind Maul’s shoulder.

“Maul,” he says. “You look unwell. Or maybe it’s just the light.”

Maul rears up and spins to meet him.

“Kenobi!” he snarls. His lightsaber flashes into life, and he crouches, blade outstretched. “You! You! No matter how many times I slaughter those around you, no matter how many times I reduce you to a whimpering worm, you find your way to me again!”

Obi-Wan is right; Maul looks bad. Thinner than even before, and wilder around the eyes. Obi-Wan feels Maul’s desperation and despair, and they aren’t aimed at him. 

“I will bring balance,” Obi-Wan says. “I will stop you.”

“Balance will be when I slice you slowly to pieces, screaming in agony, and deliver you to my master _broken_ ,” Maul says. The words shudder out of him, and Obi-Wan thinks, _Master?_ The last time he saw Maul, he was calling himself the master, and his brother the apprentice. 

There’s no more time to think about it; Maul cuts the air with a brutal downward stroke that Obi-Wan barely counters, and then they are fighting viciously, at such a speed that Obi-Wan is fighting with no more than trained muscles and the flow of the Force. He can’t even think about who will win. 

They circle and meet and break, then burst backwards through the door. Obi-Wan is aware of the Death Watch gathering around, exclaiming at the sight, their weapons drawn and their radius shrinking around him. 

“Don’t kill him!” Maul bellows. “Leave him for me, alive!”

They fight, the Death Watch gathered close. Obi-Wan forces Maul back; Maul throws the Force against him and knocks him off his feet. Obi-Wan jumps to his feet and sends Maul stumbling backwards with a roar. _There._ Obi-Wan swings, slicing Maul’s arm--and in his moment of triumph, he doesn’t see the blow coming. Maul backhands him so hard he falls, stunned and seeing stars. His lightsaber skitters away. He calls it to his hand, but it doesn’t reach him; too quickly, Maul flips him over onto his back and slams him against the dirt, over and over until Obi-Wan is too winded and dazed to fight. Maul’s face twists, close above Obi-Wan’s own. There’s blood in Obi-Wan’s mouth. He pants, meeting Maul’s eyes.

Maul says hoarsely, “Before my master, there will be me.”

 _I lost,_ Obi-Wan realizes, as Death Watch descend on him and drag him back inside. It’s a cold and empty thought, but not as cold and empty as where he goes next.

~

 

Understanding comes slowly. Slowly, and with pain.

Maul is grieving because his brother is dead. His brother is dead, Obi-Wan believes, because Maul’s old master killed him. Sidious killed Savage, and has trapped Maul back into his service. And Obi-Wan, when Maul is done with him, will belong to Sidious too.

It sounds very straightforward when he manages to put one thought in front of the next like that. But it’s not so simple. He has to pick these facts up in fragments. And it’s so hard to hold onto anything. 

“My master will be pleased to have you like this,” Maul says. “Not with hubris, for once. Not with hope.” His voice is tight and quick. Obi-Wan feels like he himself is moving at a fifth of that speed. Pain pours through every inch of him, and he can’t move or speak like himself. He tries to breathe through it, both the pain and the fear, but he is hurt, and he is afraid.

In the ship above Raydonia, Maul had promised pain. _You’ll feel every single cut._ Something like that. Obi-Wan hadn’t really thought he had the patience or the creativity. But perhaps the efficient, straightforward Maul Obi-Wan first met hadn’t survived their fight on Naboo. In any case, he meant what he said. It’s agony, and Obi-Wan is awake for everything.

“But he doesn’t need much of you,” Maul says. “No. No. Just a living body. I can tell you how little you need for that. Shall I cut you in two, Obi-Wan?” Obi-Wan bites back panic.

“And it’s so hard, isn’t it, to kill a Jedi? They’re so resilient.” Maul strokes Obi-Wan’s face. Obi-Wan shifts his bound hands, a futile struggle against captivity, or discomfort. Then Maul jerks his head back by the hair; Obi-Wan chokes. “What right do you have to survive, Kenobi? Savage did not survive.” He shakes Obi-Wan hard. “What right to you have to be free, Kenobi? I am not free.”

Obi-Wan opens his mouth to speak. Maul drops him, and swipes the tip of his lightsaber across Obi-Wan’s chest. Obi-Wan shouts. Maul grabs him by the collar and drags his nails over the shallow wound. Obi-Wan screams.

“I wish I could kill you,” Maul says in a coarse whisper, hand rough against Obi-Wan’s jaw. “I wish I could tear you apart. If I could kill you, Kenobi, I would still do it like this.”

Obi-Wan gasps and struggles, but it leads nowhere and he knows it will lead nowhere. He is well past the point of thinking there’s a way out. He’s too badly injured to move on his own, and no one in the galaxy will come for him. He clings to the Force, but it slips in and out of his grip with the ebbing of his fear.

“This was always going to happen,” Maul says. He sounds agitated, and if Obi-Wan weren’t so wounded, maybe he could see a way out through Maul’s unrest. Agitation means an unclear mind. That is how a Jedi could prevail. “You were always going to lose to me. And your precious Jedi will fail to save you, just as you failed to save your master.”

Obi-Wan says, “You can’t use him against me,” teeth chattering. 

“I can use everything about you,” Maul says. Obi-Wan forces himself upright by his elbows. He doesn’t want to succumb easily. 

Maul says, “You don’t need feet to serve my master.”

He raises his lightsaber high.

Then there is a shout, and a crash, the sounds of blaster fire and--lightsabers. Obi-Wan hears lightsabers.

Maul snarls, raising a hand. Obi-Wan is lifted by the Force; he hits the wall hard, and then sees nothing else.

~

When Obi-Wan opens his eyes, Anakin is there. So Obi-Wan knows he must be dying.

“Anakin?” he says.

“Come on,” Anakin says. “We’re not exactly in the clear yet.”

Obi-Wan does try to get up. However that looks from the outside, Anakin suddenly looks ill.

“Come on,” he says more gently, and lifts Obi-Wan into his arms. 

“Anakin!” cries a familiar voice. Ahsoka. _Ahsoka._ He needs to tell her--

“Ahsoka, I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

“We need to get out of here,” Anakin says. “Watch my back, okay? I can’t put him down.”

“Oh, that’s fine, it’s only half of Death Watch on our tail!” Ahsoka says.

“That’s the spirit, Snips,” Anakin shouts back. The pounding of his footsteps makes Obi-Wan nauseous. Before they reach wherever it is they’re going, or before whatever it is that’s going to happen happens to them, Obi-Wan fades away.

~

He can feel that he’s on a ship before he opens his eyes. 

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says. “Master Kenobi, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Obi-Wan shudders reflexively, and then in pain. He’s lying on a flat bed, under a blanket, and he feels like he’s crawling out of his skin.

“Ahsoka?” he says.

“I’m sorry about the pain,” she says. “We don’t have a medical droid, so it’s just me and what passes for a medical bay on this dinky little ship.” Her familiar, wonderful face makes an uncomfortable expression. “We’re going to take you home, where they can fix you up.”

“To Coruscant?” Obi-Wan asks. He feels so dazed.

“Yeah,” she says. “To Coruscant.” Her shoulders stay straight, he thinks through pure will.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. His voice is shredded. “Ahsoka, I’m sorry, I should have done so much more. I told them we should take your side, but I didn’t fight hard enough. I should have fought harder.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Ahsoka says. “I’m just glad we sensed you in time.”

“Oh,” says Obi-Wan, regret crumbling back down to an ember that won’t go out. “Yes. Thank you. How did you--?”

“We know you,” she says. “And it was bad. So we sensed that.”

Obi-Wan nods, spiking a pain in his head. “It was bad, I suppose,” he says quietly.

Ahsoka gives him an exasperated look, and for a moment he thinks she’ll talk to him the way she used to. Instead, she gets up from her seat. 

“Anakin’s flying,” she says, “but there’s no way Darth Maul followed us. We beat him pretty bad, and he left before we did.”

“Did you?” Obi-Wan says. “Well done, Ahsoka. I never—”

“I’m gonna go grab Anakin for you, okay?” Ahsoka says. She’s already looking away.

Obi-Wan wants to say it is not okay, that he’s not prepared and probably never will be. He wants to make a better apology. Ahsoka is already out the door, however; if Anakin is willing to be dragged in to see him, Obi-Wan will have to prepare himself.

 

**CHAPTER 12: AT THE SPACE HOSPITAL**

Anakin’s grip on the controls is so tight he feels the joints in his right hand creak. He’s pushing the engines harder than he should--it’s a nice little boat, it can take it--but he knows he’s only half going so hard out of need. The other half is a race against his feelings, battering at his skin from the inside. He isn’t ready to let them all come pouring in. He isn’t ready for Obi-Wan, especially not like this. 

First he focuses on the obvious: get away from Maul and the Death Watch. He could kiss Padmé (he will kiss Padmé, as soon as they get to Coruscant) for the kind of help she gives. The ship isn’t large—it’s a small, speedy luxury craft with all the usual stylish fittings of something designed on Naboo, just large enough to have hyperdrive engines. It’s purple and comes with a wine bar. Anakin, at the moment, would rather have a medical droid. But it flies well. It’s going to take them where they need to go.

Ahsoka comes up to the cockpit just as he’s preparing their jump to lightspeed.

“He’s awake,” she says. “But it’s not--good.”

The way she says it makes Anakin tense with dread.

“How bad?” he asks. His voice sounds harsh to his own ears.

“I don’t know. I did the best I could, but—he’s a mess. Anakin, you should let me take over,” she says, and Anakin thinks, with stark certainty, _He’s going to die._

Suddenly his plan remakes itself. Of course they don’t have to go to Coruscant. Stupid idea. Selfish. Kaliida Shoals Medical Center is half the distance. They’re not likely to shoot down a little ship from Naboo. And even if they’re meant for clones, of course they’ll help a critically injured Jedi. 

He changes their course and punches it.

“Drive,” he says to Ahsoka as light streaks past them.

“You don’t have to boss me around, it was my idea,” Ahsoka says. She takes his seat, and Anakin strides back into the medical cubicle that’s the poor excuse for care this ship provides.

Anakin had grabbed Obi-Wan on planet, dumped him back here with Ahsoka, and fled to the cockpit to get them out of there. He hadn’t had time to take stock of Obi-Wan’s condition. Now he can see more clearly.

Obi-Wan typically bears medical care with a kind of indulgent good humor. Anakin has had plenty of opportunity to observe this; Obi-Wan has never been cautious with his own wellbeing. Anakin feels like he’s had a full time job keeping Obi-Wan alive since he was a child. Now he wishes he’d been there to stop Obi-Wan from taking this idiotic risk. 

He wants to shout at Obi-Wan, but when he gets there, there’s no point. Obi-Wan is pale and unconscious, still bloody because Ahsoka has focused on the more immediate issues. He’s splinted, bandaged, and stabilized. 

Anakin is so angry and relieved and conflicted that he wants to cry.

He takes a seat next to Obi-Wan.

“You’re no good on your own,” he says. “You don’t know your own limits. One of these days I won’t be here and someone’s going to kill you.”

He reaches out to take Obi-Wan’s hand, but that’s injured too. It’s all too much. So instead he puts his head in his hands.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says hoarsely. Anakin jerks upright as Obi-Wan starts to sit up. Anakin dodges forward to lay him back down. Ahsoka’s quick first aid can’t hide how badly Obi-Wan is hurt, and Anakin is right that he doesn’t know his limits.

“Maul,” Obi-Wan says. “He kept talking about his master. He’s back under the thumb of his sith lord. He’s afraid of him. If we catch Maul, he can tell us--”

“We’re not going to catch him,” Anakin says. “Not today.”

Obi-Wan starts to protest. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says. His anger is starting to bubble through the cracks. It’s months old disappointment mixed with present moment fear. “We have to get you help. What were you thinking? You’ve never beaten him alone. What were you doing?”

Obi-Wan shudders. He says, “Balance. Bringing balance. But we have to--”

“Balance? What does that mean?” Anakin demands. “You were going to bring balance by getting yourself killed?” He nearly makes a bitter joke about the Chosen One, but he can’t quite get it out of his mouth.

“I had to do something.”

“Why did you have to do this?” Anakin asks, punching the wall with frustration. “You idiot.”

Obi-Wan slumps.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m so sorry. So sorry, I—should have fought harder for her.”

Anakin says, “Is that why you’re doing this? For some kind of penance? What kind of Jedi behavior is that? It’s _selfish_.” He’s trying, again, to crack a joke, but it falls completely flat.

“That’s not it,” Obi-Wan says.

“Oh, really?” Anakin says. His temper rises with his fear--all exactly the things the Jedi never wanted him to feel. Sure enough, he feels them. He says, almost breathless, “Then tell me, Master Kenobi, why _did_ you suddenly disobey the Council’s orders to go chasing someone you _knew_ would kill you, after nearly a year of leaving it alone?”

“I was angry,” Obi-Wan says. “I thought--”

“You thought what?” Anakin asks. 

“We’ve been fighting a war for so long,” he says. “We’ve given up on the battles that matter. I believe--I wanted to fight the tide.”

The Council will be furious. _They’d better forgive him_ , Anakin thinks. It’s their fault he’s like this. Maybe Anakin could blame himself, for leaving, but he doesn’t blame himself. He blames the Council’s stupid, hardheaded, weakminded decisions.

“I’m angry too,” he says. “At the Council, but at you, too. Not just about this stunt.”

Obi-Wan smiles and says, “You sound like the Master, now.”

“Well,” says Anakin, “I’m not.”

That quiets Obi-Wan for a minute.

“If you _hadn’t_ been angry,” says Obi-Wan finally, “would you still have left us?”

Anakin looks Obi-Wan up and down. He doesn’t want to have this discussion yet. He doesn’t want to have this discussion if Obi-Wan is dying. He can’t be, they’re so close to help, but he looks awful and Anakin has a bad feeling that he can’t shake. Superstition, except he doesn’t believe in that.

He decides to ignore the question.

“We’re taking a detour--the medical base at Kaliida Shoals,” he says. “We’ll be there soon.” _Hold on,_ he doesn’t say, because he doesn’t want to give Obi-Wan any ideas about dying.

Obi-Wan says, “I have to tell them about Maul. They’ll want to know the old alliance--”

“I’ll tell them, m--momentarily,” Anakin says. The word _master_ sits on his tongue. A familiar taste that he can’t have anymore. He can’t tell how much he misses it.

Obi-Wan nods, worn out. He turns his gaze up to the ceiling. Anakin thinks they’re mired in an awkward silence, but he realizes soon that Obi-Wan is unconscious again. Anakin panics, but the vitals readouts are still steady. Anakin takes Obi-Wan’s hand after all, gently, breath catching in his throat.

“Come on, old man,” he says. “We were always supposed to talk again. You’re killing me.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer, and the rest of the trip to Kaliida Shoals feels like it lasts for years.

~

It’s easier to land than they expect, because apparently news of Anakin and Ahsoka’s desertion hasn’t reached the Kaminoans. They come aboard the ship and immediately take Obi-Wan away, while Anakin and Ahsoka are slowly and cordially invited to refresh themselves in a too-bright, all white room with nothing to do in it. Anakin hates it.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know this isn’t great for you. We can leave if you want to.” _He_ almost wants to, to avoid having to drag himself through any more awful conversations with Obi-Wan. He almost wants to. But he’s afraid Ahsoka will agree.

Anyway, he can’t leave yet. He’s got Obi-Wan’s commlink.

“Of course we’re not leaving,” Ahsoka says promptly. “Did you think we were going to turn around and run before we even know if he’s okay?”

“Well…” he says, and she exclaims loudly.

“Anakin…he—they—broke my heart,” she says. “That doesn’t mean I don’t care if Master Obi-Wan lives or dies.”

“All right,” Anakin says. “If you say so, we’ll stay.”

“Idiot,” she tells him. She’s a lot freer with that kind of language, now that he’s not her master. “Of course we’re going to stay.”

Waiting is atrocious. It’s bad enough being in a clone hospital as a Jedi on a mission, or a Jedi with his troops. Anakin quickly decides that it’s much worse as an ex-Jedi. There’s nothing to do except call Obi-Wan’s ship, but he’s too anxious to do that until he can report on their general’s status. Any time they leave their blank white room, people are looking at them.

“We should just go back to the ship,” Anakin groans, but he doesn’t move to leave. He’s afraid they won’t be found in a hurry, if someone comes looking for them. They’re still in the white room when the Kaminoans return with their update: Obi-Wan is stable in a bacta tank. He’ll be submerged for approximately eighteen hours. They can visit if they want, but he won’t know that they’re there. Ahsoka thanks them, and she and Anakin exchange a grimace.

“You committed us now, Snips,” Anakin says.

“I don’t mind the wait,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Just everything else.”

“We really should go back to the ship,” he says. 

She heartily agrees. The ship may be small, but at least they feel at home on board. On the way to the hangar, Ahsoka bumps his arm with hers. 

“He’s going to be okay,” she says. “And you’ll be here when he wakes up.”

He doesn’t say any of the things he wants to. He just leans, with a smile, out of Ahsoka’s range.

“I’m gonna make a call,” he says. “Someone else will want to know what Obi-Wan’s got himself into.”

 

**CHAPTER 13: FROM CODY TO CORUSCANT**

They offer to ferry Obi-Wan where he needs to go when he’s ready, but Commander Cody won’t be talked down; he brings Obi-Wan’s flagship to the medical base to pick Obi-Wan up himself. Ahsoka and Anakin meet Cody in the hangar, and Ahsoka doesn’t know how anybody else feels about it, but she thinks it’s about the most awkward thing that’s ever happened to her. 

Cody greets them, nearly calls both of them by their military ranks, then coughs, while the troopers behind him shuffle uncomfortably. 

“Well, there’s no good way to do this, is there?” Commander Cody says finally. His voice is its familiar, firm self. “It’s good to see you both. And I think we owe you thanks for rescuing our commanding officer.”

Anakin shakes his head. “He needs plenty of rescuing,” he says.

“What’s his condition now?” Cody asks. Ahsoka can hear the missing _sir_ distinctly. She wonders if it bothers Anakin. The loss of rank bothers her some, but that’s not really the bad part. The bad part is that her subconscious is making assumptions about how she fits with these people, and she doesn’t anymore. She’s not sure there’s any place for her at all.

“He’s out of the bacta tank,” she says. “In recovery. They said it’ll be a few days before he’s really on his feet again, but they can’t leave you in those tanks for too long.”

“That they can’t,” agrees Cody. “If he’s in recovery, does that mean we can check in on him?”

“I would think so,” Anakin says, crossing his arms. 

They leave Cody’s soldiers behind, and the three of them make their way to Obi-Wan’s room. Ahsoka feels like she’s walking in the shadows of the past, aligned just differently enough that she can’t get them out of the edge of her sight.

Cody says, “So it sounds like you’ve been up to things. I’ve heard very exciting rumors.”

“They might have to stay that way,” Anakin says. 

“Fair enough,” says Cody. “Fully off the record, these planet-hopping guerillas I’ve been hearing about are taking out a lot of clankers, and if I met them I’d thank them for that.”

“I’m sure they’d be glad to know,” Anakin says. 

Ahsoka holds her tongue, but she’s annoyed. They’re both choosing to ignore the fact that what she and Anakin do is in the name of neutrality, and they’re not really helping the Republic. She get that they’re trying to be friendly, but they’re telling each other a lie.

“I can’t ask exactly what you’re up to, I guess,” Anakin says.

“I’m afraid not,” Cody says. 

“We don’t have much to say to each other these days,” Anakin says regretfully.

“It’s good to see you, all the same,” Cody tells him. 

Ahsoka wishes she could say that so easily.

Cody eyes her, adjusting his helmet under his arm.

“We all heard a lot of what happened,” he says. “It’s a shame, all of it. I’m sure you’ve landed on your feet, but I’m sorry you’ve had to.”

It’s reassuringly blunt, and Ahsoka finds herself relaxing. “Thanks, Commander,” she says. “I’m all right.”

Maybe at some point she’ll feel that way about the troopers who hunted her, too.

~

After some negotiations with the Kaminoans, Cody convinces them that Obi-Wan can be brought home to recover on Coruscant. 

“It does Jedi good to be in the temple,” he says stoutly. They bring Obi-Wan down the hall in a chair, wearing clone’s clothing and expression of deep embarrassment. 

“I can walk,” he keeps saying to Cody. Cody keeps not letting him.

Somehow this makes Ahsoka even more annoyed. She feels as if she’s experiencing a hundred difficult, complicated feelings, and Obi-Wan is just arguing about whether or not to sit down. Her annoyance makes it harder to decide what to do when they reach the small ship that will bring Cody and Obi-Wan and the troopers from the 212th back to the cruiser, and Cody says, “Well, so long and take care to you both.”

She catches Obi-Wan’s expression immediately. There’s no more griping about chairs. He’s looking at them with the kind of surprise that comes with loss, or tripping over something small and sly. That matters to her a lot less than Anakin, but Anakin is standing very straight, with his fist quietly clenched behind his back. 

“Safe travels,” Anakin says.

“Wait,” Ahsoka says. “Let us come with you?”

“What?” says Anakin.

“What?” says Cody.

“What?” says Obi-Wan.

“We’ll be your escort,” she says, and yes, she’s knows that’s ludicrous, but that’s what came out of her mouth. “We’ll just see you there. There’s people I want to see on Coruscant anyway, we’ll make a trip out of it.” 

“Ahsoka,” Anakin says slowly. 

“I’ll look for Ventress,” she says. “She’s the whole reason I’m alive, I should probably get around to thanking her one of these days.”

She doesn’t look straight at Obi-Wan but she can still see him wince. _Good._

Anakin has his eyes narrowed at her, but he slowly says, “If it’s okay with Commander Cody.” 

“All right with me,” Cody says. “General?”

“Well, I’m not an infant,” Obi-Wan answers. “But if you want to come, you’re more than welcome.”

Ahsoka wants to say, _You don’t have to be so grateful_ , or possibly, _It doesn’t mean we’re rejoining the Order,_ but she doesn’t. She expects she’ll have plenty of time to say those things later.

“Come on, Anakin,” she says. “We’d better bring Padmé’s ship with us.”

She can see the relief on both their faces. It’s probably worth the stress.

~

The instant the ramp of their sporty little ship pulls up behind them, Anakin says, “Before we board Obi-Wan’s--”

“I’m sure that I’m sure,” Ahsoka interrupts. “You want to see Padmé. You’re worried about Master Obi-Wan. I really am going to look for Ventress. Next to you and Padmé, she’s the only one who helped me. And I never got to do what I promised for her.”

Anakin sighs as they take off and ferry towards the Star Destroyer. “I’m worried that I’m holding you back,” he says. “That’s not what I wanted when I came with you.”

“I’m glad you came with me,” Ahsoka says. “But...I think maybe you’re right. We need some different things than one another.”

Anakin grips the controls.

“I don’t want you to have ruined your life for me,” she says.

“It’s not ruined,” he says harshly. “You haven’t ruined anything.”

“You left the Order because of me,” she argues. Obi-Wan’s ship is looming close ahead of them.

Anakin says, “It’s not the Jedi Order I miss. I have everything I want, working with you. I feel--freer. Better. I just don’t have every _one_ that I want. And the people I miss belong where they are. On Coruscant.” 

Ahsoka says, “We’re going to talk about this. Because we both miss people, and we’re not criminals. We don’t deserve to be miserable.”

“I’m not--” he protests, and she raises a hand to cut him off.

“I can see what’s in front of my face,” she says. “Once we’re on Coruscant, we talk.”

“Docking now,” Anakin says with grim resignation.

She laughs. “It’s not that bad,” she says.

 

**CHAPTER 14: THEY ARRIVE ON CORUSCANT**

His first steps back on Coruscant feel daring to Anakin, and the fact that they take place in the temple hangar is almost unfathomable. They’re met by Master Plo and Master Windu. Mace looks angry at Obi-Wan and wary of Anakin and Ahsoka. Plo looks completely unreadable, obviously and as always.

“Obi-Wan,” Mace starts, glaring down at Obi-Wan in his chair, and then interrupts himself. “No, we’ll start with the people responsible for your unlikely survival. Anakin, Ahsoka--thank you for staging a rescue. It _never should have been necessary_ \--” Obi-Wan pulls a face. “--and we owe you for it.”

At those words, Anakin senses Ahsoka’s calm shivering. She keeps it under control, but there’s a fierce emotion just beneath the stillness. 

She says, “I actually do have a favor I need done.”

Mace looks like he already regrets his words. “How fortuitous. What’s that?”

“I only survived my trial because Ventress helped me,” she says. “I promised her I’d get her record expunged. And thanks to her, I’m alive. So, that.”

“Oh,” says Mace. “Good. Well, I suppose we’ll--see what we can do.”

Ahsoka looks almost exhilarated. “I’ll tell her you promised,” she says. Anakin is frankly proud.

Mace turns to lead them out of the hangar. He’s saying things to Obi-Wan that Anakin wants to overhear, but he’s distracted when he hears Plo say, “We’ve missed you, little ‘Soka.”

“Master Plo,” she says evenly, “I’d prefer it if you don’t call me that anymore.”

She faces Cody instead, and starts to talk to him about his recent firefights--serial numbers scrubbed off. Anakin, eyes wide, accidentally catches Plo’s gaze.

“I can’t help you,” he says, and promptly ignores him to listen in on whether Mace is being fair to Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan looks like he wants to steer his chair into the lower depths. Anakin can’t decide how he feels about what he hears, which is a deeply annoyed Mace muttering, “You abandoned your post, broke our trust, and almost died, Obi-Wan. I don’t understand how Anakin could have rubbed off on you like this from the other side of the galaxy.”

Obi-Wan gives a startled laugh.

“I don’t think Master Windu is joking,” Anakin says. 

“I’m not,” says Mace sourly. “Meanwhile, Anakin Skywalker is demonstrating caution and heroics.”

“I always demonstrate heroics,” Anakin says.

“Spare me,” says Mace.

“Sadly, Master Windu, I no longer follow your orders,” Anakin replies cheerfully. There is awkward silence from the Jedi. Cody makes a stifled noise that Anakin thinks is a laugh.

“If I might interrupt with business,” Obi-Wan says.

“So you’re calling this ordeal ‘business’ now?” Mace says. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easily, Obi-Wan. But tell me, what did you gain out of this strictly forbidden suicide quest?”

“You must know,” Obi-Wan says, “that Maul’s brother is dead, and Maul himself is once again in the thrall of a Sith lord. When I confronted him last, he was referring to himself as the master and Savage as the apprentice; it seems the old master has reared his head again. Maul chafes under him, whoever he is. I think Maul could lead us to the Sith who is at the center of our troubles.”

“Hmm,” says Mace.

“Perhaps if we were to follow this lead, it would be better that the investigating party not include you,” Plo suggests.

Anakin watches Obi-Wan take on the stiff and proper attitude that means he’s about to disagree with someone. He bites back a smile.

Cody says, “He has a point, sir,” and Obi-Wan’s stiffness dissolves into a grimace.

“Let’s say we go with your suggestion,” Mace says. “You can help in an advisory role.”

Obi-Wan says, “I really feel I’m being underutilized here.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure we all feel you almost died,” Anakin puts in.

“This feels almost like ganging up,” Obi-Wan mutters.

“There you have it, Master Kenobi,” Plo says gravely. “Sometimes you must eat the fruits of your labors.”

~

At some point in the proceedings, Anakin and Ahsoka and Cody are dismissed, presumably so the rest of the Jedi Council can grill Obi-Wan for his bad behavior. Anakin is less worried than before about what they’ll do to him, so he doesn’t protest. 

Anakin and Ahsoka are not offered lodging in the temple, but they wouldn’t stay if they were asked. They fly their ship back to its hangar, where Padmé is waiting for them. When they disembark, Artoo rolling in behind them, she runs to them and gives them one enormous hug all together. 

Anakin is so overcome he wants to laugh and cry and never let go of her. As soon as she lets them go, he grabs her again and swings her around and gives her a kiss, right there in the middle of the hangar. 

Padmé hits his chest and pushes back from him. “Anakin!” she says. 

“It’s all right,” he says, feeling joyful enough he could cry. “Ahsoka knows we’re married. Everyone can know we’re married. It’s all right now.” Padmé is not grinning ear to ear, but he knows he is, and he can’t stop. 

“I see we have plenty to talk about later,” she says. 

“I’ll talk to you forever,” he says, flirting wildly.

“Until we’ve had that conversation, maybe a little discretion,” Padmé says. But he can sense her feelings. She can’t wait to be alone with him, any more than he can. He’s so grateful to see her.

Ahsoka clears her throat. “I can go,” she says dubiously. 

“Absolutely not. Come get settled in,” Padmé says. “You’re both--” Artoo makes a wailing sound of objection. “--you’re _all_ going to tell me everything.”

 

**CHAPTER 15: OBI-WAN AND ANAKIN SQUARE THINGS AWAY**

They really are rather angry with Obi-Wan for the whole mess, for nearly dying and for his intemperance and for months of behaving like rather less than a Jedi. They bring up past intemperance, too, even though he’s walked the line for years.

“You become obsessed with lost causes,” Mace says, “and it nearly destroys you. Just like with Melida/Daan.”

Obi-Wan was barely a Padawan when he quit the Order to join a revolution, and he hasn’t ever done it a second time. He thinks bringing it up is a little unfair, and because he’s a little stunned at recent events, he says so. Mostly he’s just glad they don’t say, _Just like Anakin._ He would have to fight with them over that.

“In a position to have your feelings coddled, you are not,” says Yoda sternly.

“No, Master,” Obi-Wan says. “I suppose I’m not.”

“Children often reveal themselves for who they always will be,” says Yoda. “However, hope we do that age brings discipline and wisdom.”

“That’s only fair,” says Obi-Wan.

He tells them everything he knows about Maul, and tries to be penitent. He is penitent. He tries not to let his attention drift towards Anakin and Ahsoka. He managed to apologize properly to Cody on his ship, but Anakin and Ahsoka--although they visited often--stayed somehow out of reach. There was a comfort in healing, but his interactions with them made him feel something was still broken. He has never been nearly as patient as he should be; the last few months have pushed him past the point of pretending. He knows he can’t force forgiveness out of Ahsoka, but he wants to shake Anakin until Anakin forgets all about anger.

They finally let him go, and he is aggravatingly exhausted. Being too tired to stand will make him lose his mind. He goes alone to a quarters in the temple and slowly puts on his own clothes and lowers himself to the floor to meditate. 

_You’re too eager_ , he tells himself, and breathes the Force in and out until he begins to understand his place in it again. When he feels half like himself again, he calls Anakin. When Anakin answers, appearing in pale blue right in front of him, Obi-Wan feels something between joy and relief.

“Please,” he says. “Can I talk to you?” 

~

They sit beneath the waterfalls and canopy of the Jedi Temple. Anakin is glancing around as if deciding if he and the Temple can be friends. His hands rest on his knees, set apart. His gaze wanders down to Obi-Wan.

“It’s so very good to see you, my friend,” Obi-Wan says. “Although I don’t know how happy you’ve been to see me.”

Anakin makes a noise of frustration. “Stop doing that,” he says. 

“What?”

“Self-deprecating. Or--angling for my approval. You were my master, it isn’t right.”

Obi-Wan considers this in silence, the sound of the water playing behind his thoughts. 

“I was supposed to be,” he says. “But I did truly fail you, didn’t I? Not just because of the trial. You needed something that I, and the Jedi, never gave you.”

“It’s not that simple,” Anakin says. “I loved the Jedi. They raised me.”

Obi-Wan looks up.

“And you thought you were doing right,” Anakin says. “I’m sorry. It was never a perfect fit. Everything I was supposed to do made me so angry. It all felt like the opposite of what I was supposed to be.” He scoffs. “Chosen One. What was Master Qui-Gon thinking?”

“Maybe he wasn’t wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “You’re young, Anakin. And perhaps--perhaps there are other positive ways to be with the Force than through the Jedi.”

Anakin’s eyes widen. “Obi-Wan? Is that you?”

“Come now,” says Obi-Wan.

Anakin, more seriously, says, “I don’t believe in the ‘Chosen One’ at all. That kind of thing is always a mistake. It just distracts you. Hurts you.”

“You’re probably right,” Obi-Wan says. He swallows. “You’re never coming back, are you?”

“No,” says Anakin. “I’m still finding my way out there, but being apart from the Jedi--except for the people I miss, it feels like being _free_ of the Jedi. Never mind how miserable I’d be coming back, what good am I going to do the Jedi Order if I’m fighting it at every turn?”

A certain hope that had been flickering in Obi-Wan’s chest is snuffed, and it hurts. He suspects it will hurt, for awhile. 

He says, “The Jedi are not a small commitment. I know our code is demanding, our lives are strictly measured.”

“Yes,” Anakin says slowly. “And I don’t believe in many of the things that guide Jedi the most. I don’t believe I should smother my emotions. I don’t believe I shouldn’t be allowed to love.”

Obi-Wan says, “Faith can be challenging.”

Anakin says. “Yes, and I don’t want it. I don’t need those rules to know the Force. I’m not a Sith--I’m just not a Jedi, either.”

Oh, it hurts. Years of Obi-Wan doing things all wrong.

“I’m so sorry that I failed you,” he says.

“No!” says Anakin sharply. “No, Obi-Wan, you can’t keep saying that. Listen. This isn’t about not teaching me right. This is about who I am. I’m not made for this life. And I already had decided to make a life outside the Jedi before I ever left the Order.”

“How do you mean?” Obi-Wan asks. 

“I’m married to Padmé,” he says. Obi-Wan stares at him. The words play themselves over in his ears, but they’re still the same words. Anakin says it so very gently that Obi-Wan knows it’s true.

“You!” says Obi-Wan. It’s not much more than a huff of air. Married. _Married_.

“I know,” says Anakin. “But I have been for years. Hiding it has been agonizing, and now I’m never going to hide it again.”

“Years!” says Obi-Wan. He’s been truly obtuse. Truly stupid.

“Obi-Wan,” says Anakin. “You don’t need to blame yourself. I am a really. Terrible. Jedi.”

“I guess you are,” says Obi-Wan, still stunned.

“Are you angry? I think that makes us even,” Anakin tells him.

“I--well, I guess it does,” Obi-Wan says. 

Anakin laughs, a little unevenly. 

“So, I am going to fight for some lost causes, help some people, find the Force my own way, and kiss my wife in public,” he says. “That’s what I’m going to be for myself. What am I going to be to you?”

When Obi-Wan was young, the answer had been terrifying. He’s always held so much back from Anakin, but maybe that’s a mistake.

“When I was a Padawan, I quit the Order,” he says.

Now it’s Anakin’s turn to look shocked. “ _You?”_ he says. “You did _what?_ ”

“I hadn’t thought about it in a very long time, but Master Yoda brought it up,” Obi-Wan says. “Yes. When I was young. I found a cause that I believed in, and people that I loved, so much that I felt I had no choice but to leave Qui-Gon and the Order to serve them.”

“And then what?” Anakin demanded.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, “it’s not a happy story. And I did rejoin the Order eventually. A painful process. But the point I take from it is this--while I wasn’t part of the Order, on that faraway planet, I felt like another person entirely. I felt insulated in a world that was my entire future, and I no longer dared to touch my past. I did not want to touch my past. But that was miserable, Anakin. And it was a mistake.”

“All right,” said Anakin.

“What I’m telling you is this,” Obi-Wan says. “You do not have to be a Jedi to be my dear friend. If you want that friendship, it is not cut off from you because you were a Jedi and now you are not.” He says it without blinking, as strange as it feels. “And I am sorry--so sorry--that I let you both down so badly.”

Anakin’s whole face changes. “Obi-Wan,” he says, and lunges into a hug. Obi-Wan’s bones creak. He puts his arms around Anakin and laughs.

“I’m going to make you proud,” Anakin says. “Well, as long as you change your expectations.”

“I only hope to live up to yours,” Obi-Wan says. “It’s all right, Anakin. It’s all right.”

 

**CHAPTER 16: AHSOKA AND PADME, AHSOKA AND ANAKIN**

Anakin looks so emotionally overcome when he calls her that she almost decides she doesn’t want to see Obi-Wan. But because Anakin doesn’t demand it of her, she goes. Afterwords, she wanders back to Padmé’s apartment. All her limbs are tingling, like the old her and the new her are starting to meld together and wake up into something new. She still feels hurt, but the ache isn’t so fresh and angry anymore. And she’s seen Obi-Wan’s anger now, too, towards himself and the Council and Palpatine. He hides it all beneath Jedi layers, of course, but she knows him so well. It helps. 

Padmé is working in the apartment when she arrives, being waited on by Threepio. She sends him away and pats the couch next to herself. 

“Have a seat if you’d like,” she invites Ahsoka. 

Ahsoka sits down and sags, arms above her head. She lets out the longest sigh.

“Are you all right?” Padmé asks. Her eyes crease in a smile. Her cheeks are so pink. Honestly, Anakin is so lucky. 

Ahsoka sits up. “It’s hard,” she says. “Being here? But I’m glad we’re staying with you. And I’m glad we’re here.” She rolls her shoulders. “I was tired of being angry, you know? I may not be a Jedi, but I feel strongly about--many parts of being a Jedi.”

“Such as?” Padmé prompts.

“I don’t like feeling trapped in anger,” she says. “I like to move through my emotions and come out better.”

“You are incredibly resilient,” Padmé says. “And emotionally wise.”

That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to Ahsoka. She can feel herself blushing. 

“Thank you,” she says. “You’re very generous.”

“I’m observant,” Padmé corrects her.

“You can be both,” Ahsoka says with a shrug. “Padmé--I have a question for you.”

It’s difficult, and she’s a little afraid to ask it, especially knowing that Padmé and Anakin are _married._

“What is it?” Padmé asks. 

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. “If I went off on my own after this--you know, without Anakin--do you think he’d be okay?”

Padmé smiles, and says, “It’s funny, because I’ve heard him asking if _you’d_ be okay going off on your own for months.”

“He’s a worrywort,” says Ahsoka. “I’d be fine.” She tries to phrase it kindly. “I care about him, and I love being his partner more than anything. But I think I need a little time to be apart from his feelings.”

“He has many,” Padmé says. “And I know they can run rampant over other people. I can imagine it being difficult to find your way if you’re busy worrying about where Anakin is going.”

“It’s not that I haven’t been grateful to have him with me,” Ahsoka says. “And we’ve done some really good things. I just--I need a little time to myself. Just myself.”

“Well, that’s entirely reasonable. Don’t worry about Anakin’s feelings too much,” Padmé says. “You should be worrying about yourself. I’m sure I can find something to keep him busy, for however long.” She says this last part like _however long_ might be years, with the kind of easy earnestness that Ahsoka realizes comes from years of not giving herself away. Ahsoka laughs.

“Thank you for saying that,” she says. “And I’m sure you can distract him.” She bites her lips.

Padmé says, “It’s a true privilege to know you, Ahsoka. Did you know that?”

“Senator--” says Ahsoka.

“Don’t try to put me off. You’re one of the most admirable people I know,” Padmé says. “Don’t worry about Anakin. Go and learn who you’re supposed to be next. He’ll be waiting, and so will I. Take all the time in the galaxy.”

Ahsoka breathes.

~

They lean over the railing of Padmé’s balcony together, Anakin and Ahsoka side by side. The sunset boils at them from the horizon.

“Not yet,” she explains. “I have some things to do on Coruscant first.”

“Well,” says Anakin.

“Don’t worry,” she says, nudging him with an elbow. “If you get in real trouble you can always call me and I’ll get you out of it.” 

“If you need _me,”_ he starts, and she says, “Hey! Don’t take my line. Or act like I’m helpless.”

“Snips, I _know_ you’re not helpless.” Anakin smiles at her, and she is so relieved, because he isn’t angry and he isn’t sad. Is that Padmé’s influence, or is he just _better_ now?

“I’m more worried I’ll turn my back and you’ll turn into a sad pile of mush,” she ribs him.

“Hey,” he says, “how pathetic do you think I am?”

“Pretty pathetic,” she says.

“You know, I used to be your Jedi Master.”

“Confusing,” she says contemplatively. “Since you never made Master.”

“That’s just rude,” he says, and she grins at him.

“Hey,” he says again. “I’m sorry I got in your way. I was trying to do the right thing.”

“It was the right thing, Anakin,” she says. “I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t come with me, but I’m really grateful you did. I only feel bad that you left the Jedi for me.”

Anakin expels a long breath. “Trust me, Snips,” he says. “It’s better this way.” He smiles cheekily. “And I told Obi-Wan about me and Padmé, so there’s no going back now.”

“Aren’t you fearless?” she says rhetorically.

“No,” says Anakin, serious. “But I’m tired of lying. I’m tired of forcing myself into shapes that don’t fit me.”

Ahsoka nods. That isn’t what she was doing, until the Jedi failed her, but she quickly learned how it felt when the shapes you fit in changed around you.

“I’m proud of you, Snips,” Anakin says. “Really proud. And I really will be here for you, the second you need me. No Jedi business to take me away, and probably no other work because I can live off Padmé for the rest of my life.”

Ahsoka laughs. “I promise to send for you if I get in too much trouble.”

“You’re no fool,” Anakin says assuredly.

“I guess not,” she says. “I guess the question is, what else am I?” That’s the big question, in all of this.

“I have one or two ideas,” Anakin tells her. “And you’re a quick learner.”

“Yes,” she says. “I am.”

The cool air plays over Ahsoka’s shoulders and feels, even in this endlessly busy city, like peace. Ahsoka smiles and breathes in the breeze. She also has one or two ideas about herself, now that she’s ready to see them. The whole world feels like it’s opening up to her, a petal at a time, and soon she’ll be loose in the galaxy: the Ahsoka who comes next.


End file.
